Darkstar's Reign
by SomeoneI'mSure
Summary: Tigerclaw successfully kills Bluestar but is banished for murder. With the Clan now leaderless, Darkstripe takes a once in a lifetime opportunity to become the new leader of ThunderClan. He quickly comes to regret it. [A Darkstripe Redemption Story. Set near the end of Forest of Secrets. No OCs.]
1. Prologue

**A/N: I haven't been able to look at the poll results for this because this site isn't updating it like I would have hoped. So instead, I'm going make an executive decision and post Darkstar's Reign separately from Oneshots - because it just makes it easier for me to write the story out. A lot of people have already expressed interest in seeing this continued so I might as well make it easier for them to read it, without all the other oneshot ideas bogging it down.** **Also, I made a couple of minor edits to the original text - which will remain in Oneshots - so that this story can flow a bit smoother.**

 **Unlike with The Legend Begins, I will not be responding to reviews. However, all criticisms and reviews are welcome, even flames.**

* * *

 **Leader** :

 **Deputy** :

 **Medicine Cat(s)** :  
Yellowfang-old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flattened face, formerly of ShadowClan.  
\- Apprentice, Cinderpaw

 **Warriors** :  
Whitestorm-big, slim white tom.  
\- Apprentice, Brightpaw  
Darkstripe-sleek, black and gray tabby tom.  
Longtail-scrawny, pale yellow tabby tom with black stripes.  
\- Apprentice, Swiftpaw  
Runningwind-swift, lithe brown tabby tom.  
Mousefur-small, stocky dusky brown tabby she-cat.  
\- Apprentice, Thornpaw  
Fireheart-handsome, short-haired fiery orange tabby tom.  
\- Apprentice, Cloudpaw  
Greystripe-long-haired gray tom.  
Dustpelt-small, stocky dark brown tabby tom.  
Sandstorm-short-haired, pale tabby she-cat.  
Brackenfur-lithe golden-brown tabby tom.

 **Apprentices** :  
Cinderpaw-slim dark gray she-cat.  
Swiftpaw-swift black and white tom.  
Brightpaw-beautiful white and ginger she-cat with a black spot on her forehead.  
Thornpaw-golden brown tabby tom.  
Cloudpaw-long-haired white tom with blue eyes.

 **Queens** :  
Brindleface-pretty grey tabby she-cat.  
Willowpelt-very pale gray tabby she-cat with blue eyes.  
Frostfur-beautiful white she-cat with blue eyes.  
Goldenflower-lithe golden tabby she-cat.  
Speckletail-pale golden tabby she-cat

 **Kits:  
** Brindleface: Fernkit, Ashkit  
Goldenflower: Bramblekit, Tawnykit.

 **Elders** :  
Halftail-big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing.  
Smallear-gray tom with very small ears; the oldest tom in ThunderClan.  
Patchpelt-small black-and-white tom.  
One-eye-pale gray she-cat; the oldest she-cat in ThunderClan; virtually blind and deaf.  
Dappletail-once-pretty tortoiseshell she-cat with a lovely dappled coat.  
Brokentail-long-haired dark brown tabby; blind; formerly ShadowClan leader.

* * *

The whole Clan stared at the dead, twisted body of their former leader who lay unmoving under the Highrock. They bristled and flexed around her body like a snarling mass of angry dogs.

Fireheart could barely believe it. He was numb. His heart pounded in an endless rhythm that seemed to go on forever, his gaze resting on blue-gray fur.

 _Why isn't she rising?_ Fireheart had no idea how many lives she had left. A chill rippled through his pelt. _Had that_ _one_ _been her last ?_

Fireheart could barely hear what was happening around him. He felt someone press into his side, and he glanced sideways at his apprentice and nephew, Cloudpaw, whose eyes were so round they were as big as two full moons. Another cat appeared on his other side and pressed into his fur, and he couldn't bring himself to react to the pale tabby she-cat beyond a warm blink.

A ripple of unease spread through the Clan as they began to gathering around the fallen body of their leader. When Fireheart looked around, he noticed that Tigerclaw was nowhere to be seen. Had he missed what happened to the tom who murdered their leader? Was he dead, too?

Whitestorm nosed his way through the crowd of cats and dropped down beside Bluestar's still body, resting his head on her shoulder. Fireheart followed, padding away from Cloudpaw and Sandstorm to rest his head against his leader's head. Her scent filled her nose, faint and cold. He curled around her, trying to get his thoughts together as grief finally welled up and pushed away the numbness.

 _I failed you,_ he thought, mind racing with all the times he could have tried just a little harder to convince her of her deputy's murderous intent, _I'm so sorry._

* * *

In the days to follow, the Clan was silent. Some turned their heads towards Brokenstar, as somehow having nine lives made him the automatic right choice, while others looked to Whitestorm, since he was the last remaining senior warrior in ThunderClan. But everyone waited with baited breath for some sign from StarClan.

Whitestorm made sure the Clan remained organized and together, sending out patrols to mark the border and feed the Clan. When he spoke, it was with calm reassurance. "The other Clans shouldn't sense our weakness. We must work to keep our Clan safe from them as we wait." He reminded them of the warrior code, and they welcomed his orders with relish. It helped them to forget there was no leader. More heads turned to look at him instead of anyone else. Everyone expected him to become leader.

All they needed was a sign.

Fireheart emerged from the warrior den and blinked at the sunlight. The noise of the camp moving about in stony silence made his pelt crawl with anxiety. How could the Clan survive what was to come? They were effectively a group of rogues, with only the efforts one warrior preventing them from falling apart. How were they going to survive the next season without a leader blessed by StarClan to guide them?

Fireheart padded towards Whitestorm, who greeted him with a nod.

"It's good to see you up and about again, Fireheart. I have just finished sending out the sunhigh patrols," meowed the slim white tom. He studied Fireheart's face calmly and knowingly. "You are worried about the Clan."

"How can we be a Clan without a leader?" asked Fireheart, glancing around. He was not keen on losing his only home.

Whitestorm frowned. "I don't know." The white warrior gazed over his fellow Clanmates. "No one could have expected this."

Fireheart felt a wave of guilt. _I did._ His gaze traveled up the stars. _Has my_ _failure_ _destroyed the Clan?_

The stars felt as if they had grown cold. There was something strange in the air, and Fireheart shuddered.

 _Please, StarClan,_ he prayed, hoping beyond all hope that something worse wasn't in store for them all _. Send us a sign soon._


	2. Chapter 1

Darkstripe knew he had an opportunity, and he knew he had to act fast.

It seemed simple. All he had to do was convince the Clan he was the only choice and that StarClan approved of him. Darkstripe had all the right credentials: Darkstripe had trained two apprentices who had proven themselves loyal ThunderClan warriors, despite Longtail's cowardice; and Darkstripe was the youngest warrior in the Clan who had trained an apprentice.

It wasn't exactly hard to convince them he was the only choice. Mousefur and Runningwind, despite both being older, had never trained apprentices so they couldn't even qualify to be deputies let alone the leader.

Only Whitestorm was in his way. He was the current mentor of Sandpaw, but that wasn't the only problem. Whitestorm was a senior warrior. Whitestorm was perfect. Whitestorm was loyal and honorable and wise.

Most importantly, Whitestorm was _popular_.

Darkstripe wondered if he would have to get rid of the white tom before anyone would let him become leader. Only… Darkstripe would need a deputy after he became leader, and he couldn't really pick cats the Clan didn't already obviously approve of. All Darkstripe's potential supporters didn't have apprentices yet. On top of that, they weren't good enough of for the role. Dustpelt wasn't intelligent. Longtail was too cowardly.

Whitestorm was the only logical choice, just as Whitestorm would be forced to pick Darkstripe if he became leader. Darkstripe had to get there first if he had any hope of gaining nine lives, or else he would have to wait for seasons before Whitestorm finally died.

Or he could poison Whitestar and whittle away at his lives until Darkstripe could be leader.

But Tigerclaw, a much better warrior than Darkstripe could ever hope to be, had already tried and failed to do that. No, Darkstripe needed to convince the Clan now or forfeit his right to lead forever.

His paws prickled with eagerness. He could already picture his future; he would rise to become leader of the Clan, live for nearly forever, _and_ be even more valuable to Tigerclaw. He would be rewarded with becoming the deputy of Tigerclaw's new Clan! Yes, even he had to see the value in having a deputy who already had nine lives.

 _Unless_ _Whitestorm_ _picks that kittypet._ Darkstripe growled in disgust. It sounded like something Bluestar's nephew would want to do to honor the memory of the dead soft-hearted fleabag. Everyone else knew how much Fireheart meant to the former leader, so Darkstripe didn't find it hard imagining him with nine lives.

Disgruntled, the black and gray tabby tom didn't even bother to glance around as he bent to chow down on the mouse beneath his paws. It was greenleaf and the forest was full of rich, fat prey. The Clan wouldn't miss the prey Darkstripe ate. However, the prey tasted funny and smelled faintly of the greasy thunderpath. He stared down in disgust at the mouse, before realizing that the strange dark grey fur had a few black streaks and looked like his own pelt.

His appetite vanished. He smiled. He hadn't even had to go searching. StarClan had shoved the omen right into his paws. They had chosen him. Darkstripe purred; he liked it when things went his way.

He picked it up along with his other catches and carried it back to camp. He was careful to hide the dark half-eaten mouse between two other pieces of prey so others couldn't see him with it. He picked it out of the freshkill pile and practically half-swallowed it to hide it in his mouth as he carried it to the front of the medicine cat den, careful to stay out of sight. His dark coat hid him perfectly, and he made sure to push the mouse into the light so it could be easily spotted despite hiding under a few branches. Even half-eaten, the mouse's pelt was unmistakable. The medicine cats would understand why someone had left it there, even with it half-eaten.

With his task finished, he scurried away to the other side of camp, realizing belatedly that he didn't have anything to eat and quickly disappeared from camp, and when he finally returned he had a grey squirrel resting in his belly. Then he padded to the edge of the camp and waited eagerly and expectantly for Yellowfang - or hopefully Cinderpaw - to notice his sign.

But as he finished his meal and waited, Darkstripe looked up as a familiar red ginger tom padded towards the medicine cat den and halted, sniffing the air. Revulsion washed through Darkstripe, along with hatred and whisker curling fear. Fireheart was dangerously close to where Darkstripe had stashed the mouse. The black warrior tensed as Fireheart's paw dragged the mouse out into the open.

 _Don't_ _eat_ _the prey, you dumb kittypet!_ Darkstripe internally hissed. If Fireheart ate it, then Darkstripe's chances at becoming leader would vanish with the freshkill.

The ginger tom paused and leaned back, his eyes flickering around in confusion and surprise. Then, he ducked his head, flattening his ears, and slowly disappeared into the medicine cat den.

Darkstripe felt like his fur was about to fall off his pelt in relief, before he began to feel curious. Why hadn't the fiery red tom taken the freshkill?

A heartbeat later, Yellowfang stepped out of the medicine cat den, her hard yellow gaze flat as she stared at the mouse. She sniffed it disdainfully before turning around and going back inside.

Darkstripe felt his claws protest with how hard he was clawing them into the ground. Darkstripe couldn't yet bring himself to be disappointed. His mind swarmed with dark thoughts aimed at Yellowfang.

Yellowfang was an ex-ShadowClan cat, and probably relished the fact that ThunderClan had fallen apart. It would be her fault if he wasn't made the leader. In fact, it would be her fault if ThunderClan fell apart because of this. Unfortunately, Darkstripe couldn't kill her; Cinderpaw was made a medicine cat apprentice on the day of Tigerclaw's attack and wouldn't be able to take over Yellowfang's duties until after a few seasons had passed. He hoped the apprentice would be able to see the sign in the dark mouse's fur, but he doubted StarClan had given her those powers yet. She's not a full medicine cat, after all.

But Yellowfang might.

 _Fear gripped him._ _StarClan won't reject me,_ he thought, _even they understand that this Clan needs a leader or it will fall apart!_

Darkstripe clawed the earth in uncertainty, the loose dirty collecting between his toes. Doubt flickered through his mind. Tigerclaw had a chance; he was stronger, older and much better at everything than Darkstripe was. He was the only logical choice for ThunderClan's next leader.

 _Yet, he's the one banished._

Out of the two of them, Darkstripe was the better choice. The whole Clan realized that the moment they exiled Tigerclaw. Confidence spread through him, and he rose to his paws to stretch. Fireheart and Yellowfang had seen the sign. Soon, others would, too. StarClan would make sure of it. Darkstripe slipped into the warrior den, feeling smug satisfaction. For the first time in his life, he would put all his faith in StarClan. They had already made their choice when they gave him the mouse.

Excitement prickled his paws and he curled up to sleep.

For once, he was a light sleeper.

A paw prodded his side, and Darkstripe lifted his head instantly. Darkstripe knew it was almost dusk from the color and angle of the light in the den. Whitestorm stood over him, amber eyes dim. "Darkstripe, the medicine cats want to speak with you."

Darkstripe nodded, failing to hide his pleasure at the news. He stood up and stretched languidly, and he groomed himself so his fur was sleek and flat instead of puffed out in pride and excitement, careful to take his own sweet time so he was presentable to the Clan. When he finished, he headed for the medicine cat den, carefully keeping his fur flat and his head and tail high. He was a leader now. They just didn't know it yet.

"What is it?" he asked tersely, hoping he sounded ignorant of what they were going to say.

"As if you had anything better to do," snapped Yellowfang, her eyes narrowed accusingly.

Darkstripe's ear twitched irritably. He turned his attention to Cinderpaw, hoping the ThunderClan she-cat would be easier to deal with. "What did you want?"

Cinderpaw smiled, but Darkstripe felt that it was forced. "The stars must be smiling down on you, Darkstripe. StarClan has sent a sign about who will become leader of ThunderClan." She hesitated. "They have chosen you."

Darkstripe stared at her, fighting his excitement and not able to feign his surprise. He shifted on his paws and sat down, curling his tail around him. "Of course, StarClan would recognize me as a loyal warrior."

Yellowfang hissed. "But who is Darkstripe loyal to?"

Darkstripe bristled. "I am loyal to ThunderClan. I would never have followed Tigerclaw if I had known he plotted with Brokentail to kill our leader."

Yellowfang gave him a cold stare, unconvinced. Darkstripe decided to ignore her.

"Someone has to tell the Clan," he told Cinderpaw.

"I'll announce it to the Clan," Yellowfang meowed, padding out.

Darkstripe gave Yellowfang a disgusted look, before looking back at Cinderpaw. "I hope you have some traveling herbs ready."

The smokey-gray apprentice shuffled on her paws. "Yellowfang hasn't taught me the herbs for it yet."

He hissed. He hated the idea of waiting around and eating her herbs. "Very well." He padded out, wanting to make sure Yellowfang told the Clan the truth. The Clan was already gathering, looking hopefully up at Yellowfang.

"StarClan has sent us a sign!" the old she-cat rasped. "Darkstripe has been chosen to become the new leader of ThunderClan!"

Shocked mews rippled through the Clan, and Darkstripe felt everyone's eyes land on him. He raised his head, pride and satisfaction pouring out of him in dark waves.

"Where is it?" demanded Cloudpaw, head swinging back and forth before landing on the medicine cat den.

Fireheart went to the medicine cat den and came back with the dark mouse in tow.

"It looks half-eaten," whispered Brindleface with an apologetic glance at Willowpelt.

"It smells like the Thunderpath," reported Runningwind, nose wrinkling.

 _Quit criticizing the mouse!_ Darkstripe seethed silently, fear – sharp and poignant – nesting on top of his heart.

"What does the sign tell you?" asked Whitestorm, looking up at Yellowfang.

"We found this dead mouse just outside our den. It could only be a sign from StarClan. From it's color, we knew it meant they had chosen Darkstripe."

"What about the rest of it?" asked Runningwind.

"It's half-eaten," Brindleface meowed a little loud than a whisper, looking between Runningwind and Yellowfang as if wondering if they could see it too.

"What if the sign is for Mousefur?" meowed another warrior. "She has mouse in her name."

Darkstripe located the source of the voice, tail twitching when he saw Longtail. He couldn't help but glare mutely at the tom, remembering what had happened long ago with the elder Poppydawn. As if sensing the silent threat, Longtail ducked his head.

"But she's brown," meowed Dustpelt, tail twitching. "Darkstripe is the only one who is black and gray. He's already proven himself a loyal member of ThunderClan. He rejected Tigerclaw."

Longtail ducked his head and flattened his ears, properly cowed.

Dustpelt wasn't finished as he turned to the rest of the Clan. "Darkstripe trained me after Tigerclaw killed my former mentor. I know he can be trusted."

"We all thought Tigerclaw could be trusted," muttered Sandstorm darkly, "and Darkstripe was his apprentice and strongest supporter."

"Are you going to doubt me, as well?" Dustpelt asked, tail lashing. "Darkstripe was my mentor!"

Sandstorm fell silent, looking unhappy.

Quietly, Darkstripe rose to his paws. "It is not our place to question the will of StarClan. I will humbly accept the position of leader."

The Clan dissolved into silence, some glancing up at Yellowfang. Feeling a prickle of frustration that over rode his fear, Darkstripe bounded up to the top of the Highrock. Yellowfang backed up for him, but despite that Darkstripe resisted the urge to throw the she-cat off the top of the rock. Instead, he scanned the crowd of cats, noticing the faces of the cats who watched him with outright hatred - Cloudpaw looked ready to burn holes into him with his blue eye - or resignation - Fireheart looked like his entire world was crumbling beneath his paws - and various degrees of worry, hope, and disgust.

Even though he had expected such looks from the kittypets, this was not how Darkstripe imagined his Clan would look at him when he took over. Did they really think he wouldn't make a good leader? His heart beat faster, and he forced his fur flat. He had to prevent anyone from smelling his fear.

"Cats of ThunderClan! This great honor has been bestowed upon me by our warrior ancestors! They obviously believe that I will make ThunderClan strong again!" He felt bolstered by his own words, but unease filled him at the dead silence of the Clan. He bowed his head, trying to mask his rising panic and confusion. "My first act as leader will be to make sure our Clan is no longer without a deputy. Unfortunately, there is no one but StarClan and us to witness this."

He already knew who he was going to pick. He raised his voice. "I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our ancestors may hear and approve my choice. Whitestorm will be the new deputy of ThunderClan. Whitestorm, you are a good warrior and have already proven you are more than capable of being a good deputy as well."

A ripple of surprise and quiet approval spread through the Clan. Whitestorm dipped his head to Darkstripe. "Darkstripe - cats of ThunderClan, I have always been honored to serve the Clan, and I swear I will do my best."

The Clan erupted into meows of congratulation, shouting "Whitestorm! Whitestorm!" and crowding around the newly appointed deputy.

"Obvious choice," grunted Yellowfang.

Darkstripe shot a glare at the former ShadowClan cat. He felt satisfied at the approving glances the Clan were giving him, and he knew that they would eventually come to accept him. However, as the Clan continued to gather around and cheer for Whitestorm, Darkstripe couldn't help but feel strangely neglected. He raised his head proudly and bounded down off the rock, padding up to Whitestorm as the Clan hesitated to part for him.

"I expect you to take care of my Clan while I'm away," meowed Darkstripe loudly.

Whitestorm dipped his head respectfully. "Of course, Darkstripe."

Though he knew he didn't have his name yet, Darkstripe had expected to be called Darkstar. Darkstripe paused long enough to make it awkward, before turning away and disappearing into the medicine cat den. He was disgusted with himself. He didn't want the Clan to know how neglected he felt. None of them had cheered his name.

 _Not yet_ , he thought. _I don't have my new name yet. But when I return from the Moonstone, they will_ _. Eventually. StarClan has already seen it, so it's only a matter of time._

Yellowfang joined him a few heartbeats later to prepare the traveling herbs.

"Shouldn't I pick who gets to come with me?" meowed Darkstripe.

"Do you really think Cinderpaw can make it to the Mothermouth and back in a timely fashion?" rasped Yellowfang. "Mousebrain."

Darkstripe sneered at Yellowfang. "This is your new leader you're talking to, rogue, and I don't want a former warrior who could assassinate me in my sleep taking me to the Moonstone."

"Well, now I really do want to come along," rasped Yellowfang with a crooked grin. "If you're so afraid of getting killed while you become leader, perhaps this former warrior should be there to protect you."

"It's okay, Darkstripe," meowed Cinderpaw, soothingly. "Yellowfang is a loyal member of ThunderClan. She would never let any harm come to you."

Darkstripe twitched his whiskers unhappily. Darkstripe wished she wasn't a member of ThunderClan at all. He would have to correct that once he had his nine lives. He snorted. "Well then," he meowed. "Whenever you're ready, medicine cat."

"I'm already ready, 'leader cat'." She pushed a bundle of herbs towards him. "Eat this for the journey."

Darkstripe carefully unfurled the dock leave, not wanting to taste any of the she-cat slobber. He recognized the traveling herbs from when he was taken to the moonstone back when he was only an apprentice and, with relief, ate the traveling herbs. At least there were no death berries or nightshade hiding in the leaves.

When he was done, he gave Yellowfang a sharp glance. "Alright, you old fleabag, I might as well keep an eye on you. Lead the way."

"Yes, Darkstripe," Yellowfang rasped.

Darkstripe could already tell the trip to Highstones was going to be unbearable.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you SwiftstormWrites for your review! Hope you all enjoyed this update!  
**

 **Remember, leave a review if you want to see this continued!**


	3. Chapter 2

It was a long, uncomfortable walk to Highstones.

The wind turned away from them as they entered WindClan territory, and Darkstripe tensed nervously as he listened for a patrol. To him, the noise of the long grass stalks brushing against each other hid even the sounds of prey. But no patrol approached them, and Darkstripe couldn't help but feel insulted. Had they gotten lax?

Darkstripe was glad when they left WindClan territory behind. He did not want to explain why he and the medicine cat were going to Mothermouth when Tigerclaw was the last deputy of ThunderClan. He did not want to explain that Tigerclaw had killed Bluestar and was exiled. It would call into question his legitimacy. It would force him to say something bad about his mentor.

 _He wanted to become leader_ , Darkstripe thought, glancing over his shoulder and half expecting the former deputy to rush out and claim the leadership as was his right. _He's out there somewhere, angry that the Clan rejected him._

He didn't know why, but the farther they went from ThunderClan, the more nervous Darkstripe became. _I'll feel better once I become the leader,_ he told himself. _I'll have nine lives. He won't be able to kill me._

 _He will,_ whispered the doubt, _just not too easily._

Now, he really did wish Tigerclaw would appear. He did not like the thought of dying nine times at the claws of Tigerclaw.

 _He wouldn't kill me_ , Darkstripe reassured himself. _I'm too valuable. I'll be leader of the Clan, soon. I can help him._

 _This isn't what Tigerclaw would want_ , whispered the doubt. _He killed Bluestar because he wanted to be leader. Not you._

Tigerclaw would have made a great leader. He was everything a warrior should be. He was brave, powerful and commanding. He would have made ThunderClan great and Darkstripe would have ridden on his curtails and everything would have turned out great. He would have been the deputy.

He had never really thought about becoming leader until today.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_ Darkstripe wondered.

They reached Highstones long after darkness had fallen over the forest. The entire journey had been tense, with Yellowfang silent and Darkstripe growing more and more nervous. They halted at the entrance to Mothermouth. The night air was chilly and Darkstripe shivered, feeling like claws were swiping through his thick fur coat and scraping across his skin.

The Mothermouth cave looked like a giant toothless maw waiting to swallow him whole into a never ending pit. Darkstripe wondered how the first cat was ever able to look at it and think that stars hid in its depths somewhere.

"We're almost late," Darkstripe hissed.

Yellowfang turned on him, gaze flinty. "There are two rules when you have your leadership ceremony. First, you can never tell anyone what happened during the ceremony." Darkstripe flattened his ears as the she-cat leaned in closer, her pupil angry slits. "Second, you listen to what StarClan tells you and you listen well."

Darkstripe rolled his eyes. "StarClan, I hope I don't have to deal with you for long. I already know all this," Darkstripe meowed dryly with a dismissive sniff. "I think I can handle it from here on out. You can go... do something that's _useful_."

"You only wish you could get rid of me that easily," growled Yellowfang. "A medicine cat must be present during your leadership ceremony."

If only Cinderpaw was a full medicine cat. Darkstripe sneered and turned away, hoping that the fleabag would die soon and give him some well deserved peace. "Let's get this over with."

Yellowfang huffed and padded away, her pawsteps falling almost silently on the cave floor. Darkstripe quickly followed, nose wrinkled as he tracked her scent.

They traveled in total darkness for so long that Darkstripe thought she was leading him away from the moonstone instead of towards it. He had never actually been to the Moonstone before. As an apprentice, he had been told to wait outside as Bluestar visited the Moonstone. He had thought it odd then and still did now. Surely, he would not need to make so many visits to the Moonstone.

A bright white light appeared ahead, assuring him in its cold beauty that they were entering Moonstone's chamber. The tall and wide Moonstone stood before them both, glittering like ice but with colors and shapes dancing beneath the surface, and filling Darkstripe with sudden cold dread. He halted and stared, wondering if the StarClan warriors were watching him from it's ice cold depths.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" Yellowfang meowed irritably, whiskers twitching. "Do I have to spell out everything, now? Just walk up and touch it with your nose. StarClan will do the rest."

Darkstripe didn't even think about arguing. His legs shook as he stepped up to the great rock and pressed his nose into the cold surface. In the blink of an eye, he was elsewhere, standing underneath a field of stars in a dark forest. Cats made of fog, light, and stars emerged from the forest and padded towards him.

"Is this StarClan?" he asked, excitement tingling his paws as he looked around at the familiar faces. Was he really being accepted as leader of ThunderClan?

He scolded himself. _Of course I am!_ _They sent the sign in the first place._

A tom stepped forward, the stars twinkling in his fur. He was mostly white with a big, bushy red tail.

"Redtail," Darkstripe meowed with relief as he padded forward to touch the tom's nose. "Have you come to give me a life?"

Recoiling away from Darkstripe like he was covered in hopping fleas, Redtail narrowed his eyes. "Do you know what Tigerclaw did?"

Darkstripe blinked. "What do you mean? I know he killed Bluestar."

"He killed me, too," meowed Redtail solemnly. His eyes sparked with cold light. "And he's going to kill you."

Darkstripe jerked away as if slapped. "What! He would never!" Terror sparked inside of him, the kind that made him want to panic, as his brain scrambled to think of something comforting. "I was his apprentice!"

Without another word, Redtail touched his nose. It felt shockingly cold and unfriendly, and it made him feel worse. "I give you a life for wisdom. Know who your enemies are and who your friends are."

Terror and horror crashed through Darkstripe like a wave. His fur stood on end and seemed to crawl with the eyes of everyone on him. Was he surrounded by enemies or friends? Of course they were his friends - they were StarClan! But he felt like he would turn around find some secret supporter of Tigerstar's, crouching there, waiting to strike.

It was over in a flash. He blinked nervously and watched as Redtail padded away into the field. A tortoiseshell stepped up, her pretty eyes sparkling with grim determination.

"Spottedleaf," Darkstripe said, leaning forward to take in her sweet scent but too afraid to touch.

Spottedleaf did not respond and merely lifted her head. "I give you a life for love. Love your Clan, and, maybe someday, they will love you too."

Darkstripe's heart pounded. "Of course they love me!" The echoing dead silence from when he was announced their leader rang in his ears. He leaned back as Spottedleaf leaned forward to touch his nose, but Darkstripe's paws were rooted to the ground and he could not escape her cold touch.

An alien warmth spread over his whole body, causing him to sigh and relax. A blossoming gentle love filled him from head to toe, and he felt like curling around warm fur as the smell of an unfamiliar she-cat surrounded him. When it was over, his heart ached in his chest.

Spottedleaf was already gone and another cat walked towards him. The third cat was a familiar grayish-blue and it made his heart and mind stop. An uneasy feeling spread through Darkstripe, and he licked his suddenly dry jowls. "Bluestar?"

Bluestar's icy blue eyes were so intense they seemed like they could somehow cut him in half or turn him into stone. "You would never have been my choice for leader of ThunderClan." Her icy blue eyes stared deep into his eyes and he felt cold, wondering if Bluestar knew what he did.

 _Of course she does!_ he scolded himself, steeling himself. _They gave me the mouse in the first place._

"I never would have sided with Tigerclaw had I know he was working for that traitor," he blurted out suddenly, desperate to amend whatever mistake Bluestar thought he had made even if what he said was only a half-truth.

Bluestar lifted her head and looked over him, ignoring his words and his pleading gaze. "I give you a life for acceptance. Some cats are going to be born different, but that doesn't make them any less a warrior or medicine cat of ThunderClan."

Darkstripe felt his fur prickle. He knew she was talking about Fireheart and Yellowfang. "B-But we are ThunderClan cats!" he meowed. "We are born in the wild and stronger for it!"

"Once," said Bluestar, "long ago, the Clans were also kittypets and loners. We joined together so that all of us could survive the harsh winters that came. It was many seasons of cats with nobility and honor who would make the warrior code we have today. If not for that, there would be no difference between us and kittypets. Our blood is the same."

Darkstripe wanted to argue, wanted to defend the bloodline which all Clan cats had as being greater than that of Fireheart and his kittypet brood, but he never got the chance. Bluestar touched noses with him, and Darkstripe felt his like his mind had exploded. The whole world seemed to have become connected before his very eyes. Pinestar leaving the Clan to become a kittypet, Raggedstar joining ShadowClan to become a warrior, a group of loners being accepted into WindClan despite their differences, and many other half-Clan and kittypets crossing the borders from outside the forest to join the Clans, some joining the Clans to become great warriors and others falling from their status as Clanmates. It was revolting to watch, but Darkstripe was forced to sit through hundreds of seasons of history.

"How are we the same?" meowed Darkstripe, desperate to cling to some shred of dignity. "We are better than them! Somehow!"

"We are just cats that follow the warrior code," meowed Bluestar, before she rose and padded away.

Darkstripe watched her disappear into the crowd and a fluffy-maned tom emerge to stand before him, hard green eyes staring into his soul.

"I give you a life for loyalty," meowed Lionheart, voice booming over the silent forest. "Above all else, a leader must be loyal to their Clan."

"What if the Clan isn't loyal to their leader?" The silence echoed hollowly in his ears.

Lionheart stepped forward and Darkstripe didn't bother to lean away as the yellow tabby pressed his nose into Darkstripe's. He watched as Pinestar turned his back on the warrior code once more, launching himself over the fence and into the garden which would one day become his kittypet home. He watched the betrayed faces of the Clan as Pinestar revealed his darkest secret to them and was banished. He listened to Sunstar tell Bluefur that their leader only had eight lives because Pinestar still had his last one - one he should have died giving to his Clan.

"If you are loyal to the Clan, loyalty to their leader will follow."

When Lionheart turned away, a mottled raven-black she-cat with green eyes stepped up to him. She did not introduce herself and Darkstripe didn't ask. He could tell from her scent that she was a ThunderClan cat... and she reminded him of Tigerclaw.

"Don't tell me he killed you, too," meowed Darkstripe, heart pounding. _Did everyone Tigerclaw kill go to StarClan?_

"No, my son didn't," meowed the she-cat softly. "With this life, I give you forgiveness. Some slights need to be forgiven, especially when they were made against you."

When she touched his nose, Darkstripe watched again as Pinestar gave his good-byes to the Clan and how he barely even noticed his son, Tigerkit, as he turned and left. The betrayal of his leaving stung more than Darkstripe could imagine. His betrayal... and the betrayal of all cats before him. He was being squeezed from all sides, crushed under the weight of their betrayal.

A pure white she-cat Darkstripe didn't recognize had taken her place and touched his nose without preamble.

"I give you a life for compassion," she meowed. "Care for the Clan as you would a younger, more innocent you."

He was standing in ThunderClan camp, watching as a young Tigerpaw padded after a big gray and white tabby that Darkstripe could only guess was his mentor, Thistleclaw. Tigerpaw, innocent and naive. Tigerpaw, before he murdered Redtail, Lionheart and Bluestar, her sister. Darkstripe suddenly felt sick, his whole body shaking and his heart started to sink.

It didn't help when the white she-cat was replaced by a small white kitten. His heart felt like it was going to explode as the tiny tom touched his nose. He recognized Speckletail's scent and knew this kit had to be Snowkit, the one carried away by an owl.

"Ah' give ya life fah cunning," squeaked the tom. "Alwahys be _smart_!"

Darkstripe could hear nothing else. He was back in camp. He was alone except for his mind and the feel of the land underneath him. He could see the camp, could see Speckletail's mouth moving in a mew, but no words came out. He understood her tail gestures and knew instinctively that he was missing something that his mother was saying but he would never be able to hear it. And it would cost him his life.

Darkstripe was glad when another cat touched his nose. A speckled, golden-furred she-cat stood before him, looking much younger than she had when Snowkit was still alive.

"I give you a life for friendship," Dappletail meowed as she touched his nose gently. "You should know what true friendship is."

A burning passion filled Darkstripe from nose to tail and his heart started pounding. His instincts screamed at him about the danger and he wanted to run and fight somewhere that wasn't here. He watched as Robinwing, Dustpelt's mother, throw herself into the air after a butterfly before landing hard in the spring river. It was bursting it's banks and Darkstripe chased Robinwing's form downstream, calling for help. Fuzzypelt, Robinwing's mate, was running beside him. A heartbeat later, Fuzzypelt jumped in after Robinwing, wailing, before they were both swept downstream. They were lost forever in the river.

Darkstripe shook his head and leaned back. The last cat padded up to him and he recognized the ThunderClan elder, One-eye. The she-cat was whole again, and much younger, her pale grey pelt a tad darker and lusher.

"Hello, Darkstripe," she meowed, almost growling.

"Shouldn't I be called Darkstar?" he meowed in confusion, heart pounding. "I'm a Clan leader now."

"Not until the ceremony is over," meowed One-eye harshly. "You were always impatient, Darkstripe, just like Tigerclaw. You'd think these lives would actually give you the qualities they represent but they don't. They only give you a glimpse of them. It's your choice to use these before you lose them. Forever."

Chilled, Darkstripe felt uneasy as One-eye touched his nose. But his heartbeat calmed and his unease slipped away a moment later. Something burned in his heart, hardening his body and expression, turning him serious.

"With this life, I give you determination. Stay true to the warrior code, Darkstripe, or you will lose your Clan forever."

The strength seemed to slowly leave him and he felt very tired, sick and exhausted. A whirlwind of new memories crowded in his head and he struggled to piece them together, but it seemed to scatter to the winds under his mental touch.

"Is it over?" Darkstripe meowed, wondering if a cat could vomit in StarClan.

In response, the whole of StarClan deadpanned. "Darkstar. Darkstar. Darkstar."

The roar of chilly voices chanting his name sent a shiver down his spine as Darkstar was welcomed as the new leader of ThunderClan. Darkstar felt his heart start to fall into his stomach as the whole of StarClan seemed to run away from him into a small white dot in the distance.

"Wait!" He shouted, but he was rooted to the spot, surrounded on all sides by nothing. "What about Tigerclaw?"

The darkness closed around him, along with the stench of blood and the distant pounding of a great river. He raced towards it, hoping to find the border, but as he drew closer, the stench of blood and decay became unbearable. Just as he realized what was happening, he jerked awake, padded away from the Moonstone and heaved. He blinked at the dark cave around him and meowed in a voice so quiet and scared it sounded nothing like himself. "Yellowfang?"

"Darkstar, I take it?" meowed the ex-warrior from the darkness, tone neutral. "I saw the whole thing."

Comforted by her presence and unnerved because he was comforted, Darkstar staggered towards the entrance. "Let's go," he croaked, tasting the bile in his mouth. "I want to be back in camp as soon as possible."

Right now, all he wanted to do was curl up in the warrior den and wake up as if all of this had been nothing more than a bad dream.

Somehow, he knew that wasn't going to happen.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you SwiftstormWrites, je-ne-parle-pas-francais, and deliberateOxymoron for your reviews! Hope you all enjoyed this update!  
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 **Remember, leave a review if you want to see this continued!**


	4. Chapter 3

The wind felt warm compared to the chilly breeze over his heart and mind. His mind spun with the meeting he had with StarClan, trying to grasp what they had told him.

 _Tigerclaw would never kill him. Clan blood was special because of generations of living in the wild. A cat could only have loyalty to the Clan he or she was born in. Tigerclaw didn't kill Redtail, because if he did he would have told me about it first._

 _He's not going to be mad I became leader of ThunderClan._

His heart pounded in terror.

 _Tigerclaw won't kill me, Tigerclaw won't kill me, Tigerclaw won't kill me…_

His gaze swept the moor as they passed through WindClan territory on their way back to ThunderClan. He sniffed the air and noted the faint scent of sickness. A plague? He realized belatedly it was coming from ShadowClan's border. He made a mental note to avoid ShadowClan's border.

He did not want to catch the sickness. Not now. He could not afford to be weak.

He quickened his pace.

A nervous ThunderClan greeted him silently when he padded into the camp. He stopped, his gaze sweeping over them, examining them and judging them in a way he never had before. Would they be as cold to him as StarClan? Would they refuse to call his name out? Blood pounded in his ears as he stared at them, and they stared back quietly, unsure what to say.

"So, did StarClan accept you?" asked Longtail quietly, his ears flicking in uncertainty.

Relieved, Darkstar raised his head proudly. "Yes. My name is Darkstar now."

Fireheart looked at Yellowfang, his eyes pleading. "Is it true?"

"Yes, it is," rasped Yellowfang, looking more bone weary now than they had at any other point on the journey.

Her tone had never stopped being strangely neutral since they had started their way back. Sorrow edged her voice. Darkstar did not like it. His gaze swept the Clan as he watched them relax in relief at the news. A tiny flicker of hope filled him.

His mother, Willowpelt, padded out of the crowd to touch noses with him and call him by his name in congratulations. She said it as if she expected the Clan to chant his name, but the Clan was quiet for a long while. The pale gray tabby gave Mousefur a glare, and the brown dusty tabby startled and meowed Darkstar's name. The chant was slowly carried by the rest of the Clan, subdued before picking up.

"Darkstar. Darkstar! _Darkstar_!"

Darkstar's fur bushed in pleasure as his spirits started to lift. It may not be exactly what he wanted but at least they weren't being cold toward him. Not like StarClan. He could survive with that. He hoped to to see respect and awe in their eyes, but there was merely grudging acceptance. Darkstar could accept that. His gaze lifted up to Highrock, and he wondered why Tigerclaw ever dreamed of being leader of ThunderClan.

"I need to rest," he meowed finally, sounding more tired than he realized. He didn't even look at his deputy as he padded away to his new den, passed the chilly lichen walls into the cool interior. For a moment, he thought he could see his breath in front of his face but dismissed it as a trick of the pale light. He padded up to Bluestar's old nest, still stained red with blood, half a moon dry, and gave it a derisive sniff. He padded right back out of the den, feeling decidedly grumpy. He looked around the camp and his eyes landed on Fireheart.

"Fireheart," he sneered, before remembering what Bluestar said and growing suddenly pleasant. _Don't offend StarClan_ , his instincts told him, remembering their words about non-Clan cats.

"Yes, Darkstar?" meowed Fireheart, lifting his head despite his tone sounding almost defeated. A bloody mouse lay at his paws, untouched.

Darkstar looked the kittypet over. He remembered Pinestar, the forest-born tom and leader of ThunderClan who abandoned them to live his last life as a kittypet. He remembered Raggedstar, the leader of ShadowClan, who was half-kittypet, and whose foolishness resulted in his son killing him. He remembered Bluestar's words and wondered how he could ever _not_ judge someone by their birth. The best he could do was grudging acceptance, like the Clan itself.

But then, Darkstar had no idea what to do with or say to Fireheart, until he remembered his nest. "Send your apprentice to clean out my nest and have the moss replaced."

The fiery red tom blinked in surprise. He dipped his head slowly, as if hardly believing that Darkstar wasn't going to kick him out. "Yes, Darkstar." Then the warrior rose to his paws and hurried away.

Darkstar glanced at the abandoned mouse and turned away, unwilling to eat after the kittypet. He selected a squirrel and chowed down on it until his stomach felt fit to burst. He licked his lips, resting his head on his paws to doze.

Until a bumbling kit slammed into his side, startling him awake. He glared down at the tiny yet familiar black-and-brown tabby tom, annoyed that the nap he'd been wanting for over a day had been interrupted.

"Sowwy!" the tabby mewed, blue kit-eyes blinking. For an instant, Darkstar thought he was staring down at Snowkit, and he was suddenly very much awake. The tabby kit stared at Darkstar for a long moment, before Goldenflower's mew called him away.

"Bramblekit!"

Darkstar's gaze darted to the she-cat.

"I'm sorry, Darkstar," meowed Goldenflower from the nursery, looking a tiny bit worried and concerned.

But Darkstar flicked an ear dismissively at her before rising. Feeling much better after a few winks of sleep, Darkstar stretched out his limbs and padded towards his den.

"Darkstar!"

Darkstar lashed his tail before he looked over his shoulder at Dustpelt.

The tom bounded up in front of him, tail twitching angrily. "What are you going to do about Brokentail? He shouldn't still be alive after helping Tigerclaw and those rogues!"

The black tabby stiffened, his lips curling at the memory of Brokentail fighting alongside the rogues, who were his former Clanmates, and how Tigerclaw had chosen to confide in him over Darkstar, his most loyal follower.

"Yes, something needs to be done about that crowfood," Darkstar said slowly, ominously.

Dustpelt nodded, pleased.

"Tell Whitestorm to report to me when everyone is back in camp," Darkstar ordered. "I'm going to make an announcement, and I want every ThunderClan cat in the camp for it."

Dustpelt blinked in surprise and dipped his head. "Yes, Darkstar." He eagerly padded away, tail swishing behind him.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Darkstar padded into his den and settled down on his clean nest. If he really wanted to be in Tigerclaw's good graces, it would probably be best not to kill one of Tigerclaw's allies. But Darkstar couldn't take his words back now.

 _Besides, as leader of ThunderClan, I need to make sure my Clan is safe_ , he told himself, adding quickly. _Tigerclaw will understand._

 _Would he really?_ asked the tiny voice. _He was never happy whenever you did something without asking him first._

Darkstar ignored it. Tigerclaw wasn't here to ask permission for anything right now, so that was a mute point.

It was around sunhigh when the white tom appeared, his amber eyes blinking in the dark den. "Darkstar? Everyone is in camp now."

The black tabby rose to his paws. "Thank you, Whitestorm." He padded out of his den and leaped gracefully up to the top of Highrock, long black fur bushed out. "All cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

Darkstar watched his Clan gather around him, glancing at each other in uncertainty. It was his first announcement to the Clan and all of them wondered what was going to happen. Some looked expectantly at Fireheart, almost pityingly. Fireheart especially looked nervous and shifted on his paws. After a moment's hesitation, Darkstar chose to ignore him.

"It is time for Brokentail to stand judgment for the death of Bluestar!" he yowled, carefully keeping his eye on Whitestorm. "We all know that he fought alongside the rogues to help Tigerclaw kill Bluestar! As a result, he has proven himself to be dangerous even when he is blind. He can still fight, and he can still kill. He is not as weak as Bluestar thought he was and, therefore, it is impossible for us to continue to treat him that way. He is a threat that needs to be stopped."

He paused, allowing his audience to speak up. Murmurs of agreement rose from the Clan, as they caste dark glances at the blind dark brown tabby tom. Whitestorm shifted in uncertainty. Before he had become leader and after Bluestar's death, Darkstar remembered that the white tom had advocated for Brokentail staying in the Clan only because that was what Bluestar had ordered the Clan to do. No one in ThunderClan had the right to contradict their former leader's words... except Darkstar.

"Are you going to banish him?" asked Mousefur, claws unsheathed.

"No," meowed Darkstar, earning a surprised gasp from some of his Clanmates. "I am not weak or stupid enough to think he won't be able to contact Tigerclaw and the rogues. We do not want him telling them anymore of secrets that they can use against us!"

The Clan yowled in approval, Dustpelt and Longtail at the front. Darkstar realized that he could count on them in the moons to come and wondered if he should have made Dustpelt the deputy instead.

Darkstar glanced at Yellowfang but her expression was unchanging. He looked at Whitestorm, who looked uncertain but resigned. As the roaring died down, he scanned the crowd and noted that everyone was grim and angry, with their focus on the prisoner. Darkstar felt a flicker of relief that his Clan agreed with him.

"Therefore," meowed Darkstar with finality, "Brokentail must be executed."

A startled pause met this response, before a roar of approval spread through the Clan. Darkstar curled his tail around himself in satisfaction. His gaze swept the crowd, before his eyes finally settled on Yellowfang. "Bring him out."

Yellowfang dipped her head, defeated, as Dustpelt and Longtail eagerly rushed in. There was a moment of hushed silence before they re-emerged with Brokentail between them, dragging him with their teeth out into the middle of camp. The heavily scarred, ragged former leader of ShadowClan looked about him, his face twisted into a confused snarl, eyes narrowed.

"Brokentail," Darkstar yowled. "You will pay for your crimes today!"

The dark brown leader turned his head in confusion. "Darkstripe?" He looked baffled, but the hissing of the Clan made him wary. "What are you talking about?"

"My name is Darkstar," said the black tabby, his yellow eyes narrowed as he approached the dark brown tabby.

"You were one of Tigerclaw's supporters," meowed Brokentail. "Were you not?"

Darkstar felt the Clan shift in unease at this reminder. His thoughts turned back to his leader ceremony. The black tabby fluffed out his fur and yowled. "No! Tigerclaw supported you! I did not! I will not be lumped in with rogues like him! I am a ThunderClan cat and loyal to my Clan above all else!"

The Clan roared their approval, drowning out Brokentail's next words. Pleased, Darkstar leaped and landed on the brown tabby. "Justice is served!" he yowled, to the cheers of his Clan. Ears and heart pounding loudly, he sank his teeth into the struggling tom's neck, crushing his windpipe. The tom struggled underneath him for a long few moments before finally growing still. Satisfied, Darkstar stepped back. A hush had fallen over the Clan as they waited for Brokentail to rise again.

When Yellowfang stepped forward, she touched noses with the dead ShadowClan leader. Darkstar watched her, sneering at the almost gentle touch. Like a Clanmate to their leader.

 _I cannot trust her_ , he decided.

"Brokentail is dead," Yellowfang confirmed. Her eyes were clouded with grief.

"As he should be!" Darkstar growled, turning to the Clan. "Our Clan is safer now that he is gone! We can return to our duties without worry of him clawing us in the back!"

Murmurs of agreement rose from his Clan. A few of them looked sick, but accepting. Darkstar felt a wave of relief. "Return to your duties!"

"What about the rogue's body?" meowed an elder with a sniff of disdain towards the crowfood.

Darkstar glanced at the body with a sneer. "Take him off ThunderClan territory and deliver him to ShadowClan. He was their leader. They can do whatever they wish to him."

His Clanmates nodded in approval at his simple logic. With a final glance at his deputy to make sure it would be done, Darkstar turned and entered his den, slipping into his nest for a well-deserved nap.

* * *

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 **Remember, leave a review if you want to see this continued!**


	5. Chapter 4

When Darkstar awoke, it was to the sound of someone entering the leader's den. Whatever dreams he had were scattered to the corners of his mind to be forgotten.

"Leopardfur is here," meowed Whitestorm.

Remembering the RiverClan kit patrol and Greystripe's betrayal, the black tabby rose to his paws with a growl and padded out of the den towards the RiverClan cats. It had been a quarter moon since he had been made leader, and he still had a ton of dirt to deal with that Bluestar had left behind. He spotted the RiverClan partol right away, which had the same cats who had helped them fend off Tigerclaw and his rogues, but had not stuck around to see about Tigerclaw's exile. This was the first time since then that they had first shown up, three quarter moons ago.

Leopardfur looked at Darkstar in surprise. "Where is Bluestar? Or Tigerclaw?"

"He's in exile," Darkstar meowed, ignoring his own irritation that she would think Tigerclaw was the new leader. "Bluestar is dead. I am ThunderClan's leader now."

A series of unasked questions flashed through her eyes, but the RiverClan deputy just dipped her head in respect. "I'm sorry to hear that." She straightened. "We are here for-"

Darkstar cut her off. "I know why you're here," he growled. "You can have them, but only on one condition."

Surprised, Leopardfur's eyes narrowed. "What condition?"

"RiverClan forfeits all rights to Sunningrocks," meowed Darkstar firmly. "They belong to ThunderClan as a source of prey, not to RiverClan as a source for sunbathing. Now and forever."

"RiverClan would never!" Leopardfur hissed, fur bushing out. The two blue-gray warriors she had brought with her also bristled.

"Then it is obvious that RiverClan does not care about the kits," Darkstar responded with a dismissive flick.

The RiverClan deputy seethed, claws shredding the ground.

Looking uncomfortable, Greystripe stepped forward. "Darkstar, may I-?"

He was ignored. "I expect Crookedstar's answer at the next Gathering. Right now, our Clan has more important things to worry about than RiverClan's supposed claim on two of our kits."

"But Darkstar-" meowed Greystripe, but a sharp glance silenced him.

Leopardfur gritted her teeth. "Those kits belong with their mother's Clan."

"Their mother is dead," retorted Darkstar, a flash of inspiration coming to him and he almost grinned wickedly, "because RiverClan couldn't keep one pregnant she-cat in their camp. RiverClan's neglect brought this upon themselves. The kits are ours, and they will be safe with us. Unless...?"

Leopardfur's lips threatened to curl in a snarl. She forced her head to dip in respect. "Very well," she meowed. "I'll inform Crookedstar."

Darkstar nodded, satisfied that RiverClan now understood their position and him. He wasn't going to just sit around and wait for the situation to resolve itself, unlike Bluestar. "Whitestorm, organize a patrol to escort them to the border and then remark it."

The dark leader waited until the RiverClan cat's golden pelt had disappeared into the green fronds at the top of the ravine, before bounding up onto Highrock. He stood on highrock, his tail raised and head held high. "RiverClan needs to learn that ThunderClan will not tolerate their supposed claim on our kits! They belong in ThunderClan, where we know they can be taken good care of! Since they've been born, they have never once stepped paw into RiverClan camp! We rescued them, and we gave them a den. They were born on our borders, in our territory! StarClan knows they belong with us! We are the only ones with any real right to them!"

The Clan murmured to each other, excitement flashing in their eyes. Darkstar could see a lot of them agreed with him. Some had disagreed with Bluestar, he noted, but were willing to trust him after what he had done to Brokenstar. Pleased, he bounded down from the Highrock and gestured to his two closest supporters. "Dustpelt, Longtail, to my den."

The den was still cold, but it felt warmer than before. Darkstar puffed out his chest. "I have an important mission for you two. Greystripe cannot be trusted to help keep the kits in ThunderClan. If you spot him leaving camp for RiverClan, make sure he never returns to ThunderClan."

"You actually want to keep half-Clan kits in the Clan?" asked Longtail, looking skeptical.

Darkstar glanced at him in annoyance. "RiverClan can have the kits if they hand over Sunningrocks. Otherwise, they have no right to them. They will stay in ThunderClan."

"But they're half-Clan kits," meowed Longtail, with a glance at Dustpelt.

" _Some cats are going to be born different, but that doesn't make them any less of a warrior,_ " Darkstar recited, remembering what StarClan had told him. "They are both kits of warriors. Their loyalty will be to the Clan that raises them."

"And Greystripe?" asked Longtail. "He was born and raised by us but he's not loyal."

Darkstar growled, annoyed. "Why do you think I asked you here? Now, get out there and protect our Clanmates."

As Longtail hesitantly left with Dustpelt trailing eagerly behind him, Darkstar wrapped his tail around his paws and basked in satisfaction. He had told RiverClan off and managed to get two new potential warriors out of the deal, something Bluestar would never think to do.

A sharp breeze blew in the scent of his deputy, and he looked towards the lichen curtain. "Whitestorm, come in."

The tom padded inside, his amber eyes scanning the den. "May I speak with you, Darkstar?"

The black tabby swept his tail in a "go ahead" gesture, raising a paw to lick it and clean his face.

"Bluestar would never have agreed to this," meowed Whitestorm. "It's dishonorable to use the lives of kits to gain more territory."

Darkstar scowled. "There is nothing in the warrior code against it, Whitestorm, as long as the kits are safe and alive, it doesn't matter what we do with them."

"But what if RiverClan decides to just attack us for the kits?" Whitestorm asked.

The black tabby felt uncomfortable, having not thought of it before, but he hid it. "Then send someone to monitor the border. If any RiverClan cats come to this side, they are to report back to us immediately. Everyone else stays in camp."

"But we will need to hunt for the queens."

"Then send the apprentices out to hunt," Darkstar snapped, then added as an after thought, "and have Fireheart keep an eye on them. Make it an assessment."

Whitestorm pressed. "What about Fernkit and Ashkit? They'll need to be made apprentices soon."

Darkstar growled. "You bring that up now? They can wait until after we're done with RiverClan. We don't have time right now to train new apprentices."

"What about the Gathering?" Whitestorm asked. "Its only in a few days. You haven't yet announced who will be going on the patrol."

"Whitestorm," meowed Darkstar. "Get out."

The white tom opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. He realized he had pushed him too far. "Yes, Darkstar." He dipped his head and turned to leave.

Darkstar growled to himself, annoyed with the white warrior. The tiny flicker of doubt in him flared in a panic.

 _What in StarClan had brought that_ _on_ _?_

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	6. Chapter 5

After Whitestorm's unexpected and very discouraging questioning, Darkstar hesitated to emerge from his den as he thought over the situation with RiverClan. He was not going to allow any Clan to hold one over ThunderClan, not while they had the kits in the camp and being nursed, but he also couldn't deny the possibility that RiverClan would attack just for those kits.

He snorted. Not like RiverClan wasn't going to attack them for other reasons anyway. That Clan always tried to come up with reasons to attack the Clan, with their most beloved one being "Sunningrocks is ours".

What really bothered him was how Whitestorm had questioned him, as if he was stupid enough to forget all those other parts of Clan life he now ruled over. He hadn't been expecting it, and he did not appreciate it. The last thing he wanted was a deputy who questioned his ability to lead.

Still, if it came down to a battle, Darkstar knew the Clan would need more warriors. He decided to deal with Ashkit and Fernkit first and assign them cats who weren't Whitestorm or Greystripe. Dustpelt would be a great choice. But that left the question of who else. Longtail already had an apprentice, and so did Whitestorm, so that left only a pawful of warriors who could train apprentices.

He fell asleep, mulling it over, waking in a cold cave, his dark fur missing sunlight and warmth. He rose on stiff limbs and padded out into a quiet camp.

 _I need a mate_ , he thought idly. His den was too cold.

His gaze swept the camp, briefly landing on Frostfur, Goldenflower, and Sandstorm. He quickly dismissed Frostfur, who was too old, and Goldenflower, who recently kitted with Tigerclaw's kits. That left Sandstorm, and he suddenly an idea of how to get her attention. He decided to tell Brindleface of his decision, padding to the nursery to have a quick word with the oldest queen in ThunderClan.

Afterwards, he started for the Highrock only to be stopped by his deputy.

The white tom dipped his head. "Fireheart finished his assessment of the apprentices."

The black tabby couldn't help his pelt twitching with annoyance. "Which ones?"

"Swiftpaw and Brightpaw. They are both ready to be made warriors."

Darkstar nodded, tail twitching. "Make sure both of them, an Sandstorm and Dustpelt are in the camp for the ceremonies after sunhigh."

Whitestorm nodded and started to say something but Darkstar brushed passed him. The white warrior hesitated to follow, and Darkstar's tail lashed in pleasure when he thought better of it and went to follow his orders. The leader of ThunderClan rushed to the base of the Highrock, his eyes flashing up to the sky to track the time. Eventually, he launched himself to the top of the Highrock, scanning the camp again to make sure everyone he needed was here and enough witnesses were present, before loudly yowling.

"All cats old enough to catch their own prey, join here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

Absently, he scanned the growing crowd of cats for Greystripe and felt satisfaction to see him meekly hiding near the entrance to the warrior's den, Longtail and Dustpelt beside him.

"ThunderClan has two apprentices ready to be made warriors!" he yowled. "Brightpaw and Swiftpaw have both completed their assessments today and have proven they are ready to be made warriors. And, in my opinion, they have waited long enough!" The Clan murmured agreement. He lashed his tail in pleasure, pleased he still had their support. He settled on his haunches, anticipation warming his belly as he realized he was finally on the other side of the old ceremony.

"I, Darkstar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices! They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn!" He silently prayed StarClan was watching him now and how well he had been leading the Clan over the last two days. "Brightpaw, Swiftpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Both apprentices nodded. "I do."

"Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Brightpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Brightflower. StarClan honors your intelligence and patience. Swiftpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Swiftwing. StarClan honors your speed and bravery. We welcome you both as full warriors of ThunderClan!"

He leaped down from the Highrock and stepped forward expectantly. He placed his chin on both of their heads, and both apprentices stepped to either side of him to lick his shoulders. The Clan erupted into yowls.

"Brightflower! Swiftwing!"

Darkstar watched the two new warriors race to join the other warriors, his tail raised in pride. He leaped back to the top of the Highrock, pleased when the Clan started to grow quiet.

"Cats of ThunderClan, it is time for two of our kits to be made apprentices!" He beckoned to Brindleface's two kits. The grey cats with their darker spots hurried to the base of Highrock.

"Ashkit, Fernkit, you have both reached the age of six moons and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Ashpaw and Fernpaw. Ashpaw, your mentor will be Sandstorm. I hope she will pass down all she knows on to you. Fernpaw, your mentor will be Dustpelt. I hope he will pass down all he knows on to you."

He scanned the crowd. "Sandstorm, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from Whitestorm, and have shown yourself to be determined and brave. You will be the mentor of Ashpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to him."

His yellow gaze landed on Dustpelt. "Dustpelt, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have recieved excellent training from Redtail and myself, and you have shown yourself to be loyal and brave. You will be the mentor of Fernpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you have know to her."

The two young warriors padded forward to speak with their new apprentices, tails raised high in pride. Darkstar smirked to himself, crouching down to watch the cats below him.

 _Let RiverClan come,_ he decided. _We can take them!_

* * *

 **A/N: Special thanks to FiddletheCat, Darth Jay, Vaylor2360, Hazel Ashwood, and Ran for your reviews! Another six months, another chapter! Hope you guys haven't been too bored while waiting.**

 ** **Remember to leave a review! I'll be focusing on this story for the next couple of months, mostly because I'm tired of leaving my stories half-finished and forgetting about them. See ya soon!  
****


	7. Chapter 6

Darkstar was proud of his decisions so far. The Clan seemed to be accepting of him after he killed Brokenstar and hadn't shown any disagreement after he told Leopardfur off. That was always a good sign.

 _Tigerclaw would approve_ , he thought, heart pounding. His eyes felt heavy as a tree and his brain felt like it had been shredded.

The only one in camp who didn't seem to have caught on to what a good job he'd done was his deputy.

"Are you sure it's right to bargain for territory with kits?"

It had been a few days since then and there still had been no answer from RiverClan. Sunningrocks was still their territory. The kits were still in ThunderClan's nursery. Darkstar had a strange feeling he should have done something by now but couldn't be bothered.

Then Whitestorm walked in and decided to question his everything.

"If you're so brilliant, why don't you come up with an idea?" Darkstar closed his eyes and laid his head on his paws in the hopes Whitestorm would understand he was interrupting something very important. "We can talk about this tomorrow."

Whitestorm lashed his tail anxiously. "Leopardfur could be back any day now with a patrol of warriors and no one in camp is prepared."

"You're the deputy. You figure something out."

"They need more than just me. They need a purpose. They need you."

Darkstar rose his head and narrowed his yellow eyes at the tom. "What would you have me do then?"

The white tom, realizing he had Darkstar's full attention, steadied himself and stilled his tail. He raised his head nobly, with his voice soft and firm. "Tell them what your goal is."

Darkstar wrinkled his nose. He didn't have a goal, except waiting around for Tigerclaw to show up and hoping he wouldn't be mad. Or waiting around for the Gathering day where he could announce his new position as ThunderClan's leader – something which was sure to reach Tigerclaw's ears eventually. Even if a part of him wanted to curl up and hide in case Tigerclaw was furious at the news.

He already had everything else he wanted.

Except he was so tired he could probably sleep through the next moon. And Whitestorm was currently getting in the way of that.

"My _goal_ is to sleep. It's _dark_ out." Darkstar wasn't sure how hard he could hammer the words in before Whitestorm got the picture and was already tired of looking at the white tom. "You organize patrols, you make sure the Clan is running, and that makes you responsible for keeping them occupied while we wait."

Whitestorm's nose wrinkled. "You want me to prepare them for a battle?"

Darkstar practically hissed. " _Yes_. I want you to do that. Just as long as it's not _here_."

The white warrior lashed his tail, yellow eyes narrowed. "We shouldn't be preparing for a battle. It's clear that Greystripe wants RiverClan to have the kits-"

"And when my mousebrained half-brother becomes leader, you can defer to him for what to do about his half-Clan _brats_! Until then, get out of my den and do something _useful_!" Darkstar had never felt so good yelling at someone.

The deputy sniffed. "Very well," he mewed stiffly. "Would you like me to fetch you some freshkill as well?"

"Do I smell like I'm starving to you? Or would you rather ask more stupid questions about how to do your own job?"

Realizing he had pushed the matter too far (and perhaps they both were lacking in sleep), Whitestorm dipped his head deeply in apology and respect and quickly vanished from the den. Darkstar squinted after him, turning away before the moon's light could wake him up anymore.

He hovered on the edge of wakefulness, his heavy eye-lids closed but his mind now buzzing with all new worries about the future. If the Clan really was starting to question him behind his back because of RiverClan's lack of response, they might start thinking he was a bad leader.

 _Why did I become leader of ThunderClan?_

If only he could actually see. He was so tired, his eye lids had already fallen asleep. He didn't move for so long he was almost convinced he was dreaming about being stuck in a body that refused to move and he could hear Whitestorm talking outside of the den.

"He's resting," said the deputy, unhappily. "He won't be speaking to anyone for a while."

"What about Greystripe?" came the soft mew of Fireheart.

"Greystripe's not popular right now," mewed Whitestorm warningly. "Especially not with Darkstar. Whatever happens, happens."

"They're treating him like a prisoner!"

"Greystripe _is_ a prisoner, Fireheart. He has betrayed the Clan and the warrior code by putting a RiverClan she-cat first."

"And his kits?"

Whitestorm sighed. "Go back to your nest, Fireheart."

Darkstar felt a little better. He had made the right decision about Greystripe, even if Whitestorm was a little upset about how the kits were being dealt with. It wasn't like Darkstar was going against the warrior code; the kits weren't hurt or in danger.

 _Tigerclaw would approve_ , he thought with satisfaction.

He dreamed of dark green fields of grass that rippled in an invisible and nonexistent wind. He smelled the sharp scent of blood, but he couldn't tell where it came from. He faintly heard the sounds of fighting and slowly padded towards it, unhurried.

He was in his territory, a king among mice. His muscles rippled with power and strength he had never experienced in real life. Mice died of fright at the sight of his dark striped pelt.

He reached the battle and was surprised to see RiverClan and ThunderClan fighting. His focus immediately went to the impossibly large, black-and-brown tabby that lead the patrol. Tigerclaw sank his teeth into a RiverClan warrior's neck and tossed him high and far until the RiverClanner landed with a splash into the river. Tigerclaw's fangs glistened as he smiled, his massive frame posing to accentuate his broad bones, glossy fur, and bulging muscles.

"Mighty Tigerclaw!" squeaked Redtail, the impossibly skinny tom practically tripping over himself as he raced to Tigerclaw's side, looking as small as a kit and weak as an elder. "I'm afraid we are losing this fight."

"Deputy Redtail," bellowed Tigerclaw, his long and magnificent whiskers curling with pride and glee, "these RiverClan cats are nothing to us."

"Brave Tigerclaw," mewed Redtail. "This battle is lost. There are too many."

"I can handle them all." Tigerclaw hooked his claws into a random blue-gray RiverClan cat and tossed them all the way back to Foretrees.

"Tigerclaw," the sudden serious edge to his tone startled Darkstar. The white and red tabby seemed to suddenly fill out with strength, his eyes steady and firm, his tone hard and commanding. "Go back to the Clan."

Darkstar was looking at the real Tigerclaw. His eyes were dark and his face expressionless, a dark gleam in his amber eyes speaking of fury and twisted ambition Darkstar had never seen before. He had always imagined those eyes as handsome and glittering with dark intelligence, but now all he saw was a hunger to kill. Darkstar shuddered as he felt those eyes pass over him.

"We can fight them, Redtail," mewed Tigerclaw, his voice less booming and more low, dark and threatening. Darkstar felt a chill up his spine, but it wasn't from delight. "RiverClan knows they cannot win Sunningrocks this day!"

"How many cats will die before you realize that neither can we?" Redtail gazed down at the body of a RiverClan tom. Her black and red fur was wet with the fresh smell of blood. "We will retreat and take Robinwing home for her vigil."

Tigerclaw growled through gritted teeth. "If we leave now, her death will be in vain. We must fight."

"Her death should never have happened." Redtail looked old and tired but his expression hardened. "This is an order, Tigerclaw."

The massive tabby sank his long claws into the ground. He stared at Redtail as if he was imaging his claws through the white and red tabby's pelt. Or Darkstar's pelt. The black and grey tabby couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Very well." Tigerclaw turned away.

Redtail nodded. "ThunderClan, retreat!"

Mousefur and Runningwind broke off from fighting and disappeared back into the forest. Redtail quickly followed, his tail raised. But Tigerclaw halted at the edge of the forest and looked back at the celebrating RiverCLan cats, his lips twitching as they threatened to curl back into a sneer. Then he was gone.

"Darkstar." Redtail appeared beside him, his bushy dark ginger tail raised behind him. "That tom will never be like you think he is."

The black tabby remembered Tigerclaw's dark murderous eyes and shivered. "Tigerclaw would never hurt me."

Redtail gave him an exasperated look. "You know exactly what will happen."

Darkstar wordlessly padded away. He wasn't sure where he was going only that he wanted to get away from Redtail. He padded into the dark field of green, and he tried to summon the feel of his own hard muscles but only felt the uneasy beating of his own heart. He felt weak and powerless, and far too real for his own liking.

"Can I go back to my own dreams?" he wondered aloud.

He jerked awake to see sunlight streaming through the lichen curtain. His head still hurt, and he still had to squint to see, but he felt better.

"Whitestorm?" he croaked. He forced himself to his paws and felt uneasy when his legs trembled. Annoyed with life and the possibility that he might be sick, Darkstar stepped out into the sunlight and blinked irritably at the Clan.

He was immediately confronted by Fireheart who bolted across the camp to greet him. "Darkstar, can we talk?"

"No," growled Darkstar. He had a feeling he already knew what it would be about anyway, even if his headache prevented him from remembering exactly what it was. He shoved straight passed Fireheart and headed for the medicine den, silently praying to StarClan Yellowfang was out collecting herbs.

No such luck. The dark grey she-cat looked up and stared wearily at him, looking decidedly uneasy about him being in her den. Darkstar took a quick glance around, unhappy that her apprentice was gone, probably out collecting herbs.

"What can I do for you, leader cat?"

"Healer cat, I have a headache and can barely see in this sunlight," he rasped.

"I'll bring you some poppyseeds," she rasped. "Go back to your den before the whole Clan sees you."

"I am not a kit," snapped Darkstar, bristling. He should have thought of that himself and mentally kicked himself for leaving his den, disgusted that he would let the Clan see him at less than his best. The idea of returning to his den and staying there filled him with disquiet. "I'll sleep here."

Yellowfang snorted but didn't protest. Darkstar chose a newish nest and curled up with his head turned away from the entrance. When he closed his eyes, it was totally dark and his headache seemed to weaken.

"Take these," rasped Yellowfang, shoving a mintleaf under his nose with a few seeds on it.

Grateful for some relief, Darkstar licked them up and laid his head on his paws, trying to think beyond the fog in his head. But he soon nodded off, his dreams dark and empty.


	8. Chapter 7

Darkstar awoke not entirely sure of where he was. He blinked up at Yellowfang and instantly bristled, before he remembered what had happened. But now his headache was gone and the light didn't make his eyes squint.

"Do you need something, healer cat?" he growled, his brain landing on the only possible explanation he could think of. "Going to kill me for ShadowClan?"

She snorted. "You're fine now, Darkstar. You can go." She turned and disappeared into the back.

Darkstar noticed that the dark gray tabby apprentice was crouching and watching him with wide eyes. "What is the matter with you, Cinderpaw?"

She blinked, unperturbed by his rudeness. "What are you going to do to Yellowfang when I become a medicine cat?"

The black tabby blinked at her in surprise. He hadn't thought about that, not since StarClan had… _encouraged_ him to be more open-minded. He didn't want to disappoint StarClan or be rejected by them again, for that matter, and fought the sudden desire to make another trip to the Moonstone to ask if he was doing alright so far but dreaded that it would only get him the cold shoulder.

 _Perhaps the reason I was sick yesterday was because StarClan wanted me to address this._

He shivered, instinctively unsheathing his claws. He had enemies in camp, quiet ones who weren't so obviously treacherous like Brokenstar had been. If he was being honest with himself, he would prefer to kill Yellowfang and be done with it here and now. Cinderpaw had a right to be worried; Darkstar was pretty sure once Yellowfang served her usefulness she would be dead.

The apprentice took his silence as answer enough. "She's loyal to ThunderClan!" Her pelt bristled as she stood up, lashing her tail in agitation, frustration and fear. "She owes everything to us! We helped her when she needed it most! Why would she be disloyal?"

Darkstar had to swallow a bitter bite of freshkill as he remembered what he had told Longtail. _Their loyalty will be to the Clan that raises them_ _._

 _Was Yellowfang's loyalty to Bluestar or to ThunderClan?_ He mused silently to himself and realized that he had no idea if Yellowfang could be loyal to anyone other than Bluestar or Fireheart. He needed proof of her loyalty. He hummed before he finally rose to his paws.

"I will… think about this," he told the she-cat. "We all must know where Yellowfang's loyalties really lie."

Cinderpaw didn't seem satisfied with this answer; she opened her mouth as if about to say something but remembered who she was talking to and dipped her head begrudgingly. "Thank you, Darkstar."

For an uncomfortable moment, Darkstar realized he had been addressing the she-cat like she was a fellow warrior and his equal, not an apprentice or even a medicine cat. He rose to his paws and padded out with finality.

He stopped in the fern tunnel to lick down his fur so he was sleek and presentable. When he stepped out into the camp, he walked with his head held high and his tail raised.

Fireheart padded up to him, looking nervous. "Darkstar, may we talk?"

Darkstar's eyes narrowed into cold slits as he stared at the tom for an uncomfortable moment, leaning away from him like he had a disease he did not want, before he gave a tiny nod. He led the way into his den and curled up on his nest, deciding not to dignify the kittypet with his full attention.

After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, Fireheart blurted out. "It's about Greystripe. He's-"

"Did you know he is my half-brother?" interrupted Darkstar, studying his claws idly. "Our mother is Willowpelt. His father was Thrushpelt, but mine was Thistleclaw." He licked his chest thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, I'm Whitestorm's half-brother, too."

Fireheart waited uncomfortably for Darkstar to continue. Unable to handle the the silence, he mewed, "But what about his kits?"

"My nephew and niece?" Darkstar stood up abruptly and stalked towards Fireheart, feeling satisfied when the orange tabby worriedly shrank away from him. "You won't understand this, kittypet, but Clan cats are bound to each other by more than just the warrior code. Your kind never grows up with their littermates, you never know what it's like to know what the word loyalty and trust means. But we are blood brothers and sisters. We don't give that up for anything, especially not RiverClan queens."

Darkstar turned away and sat down on his nest, allowing the moment to sink in long enough for Fireheart to get uncomfortable. "Greystripe's kits are ThunderClan just as much as they are RiverClan. We have a blood right to them. They will remain with us and be treated like ThunderClan cats."

Fireheart stared at him in shock. "And RiverClan?"

"If they are unwilling to give up Sunningrocks for the kits, then it is obvious they only care about themselves." Darkstar's mind whirled at his own logic, but after a few moments he realized that it did make a kind of sense. "For generations, RiverClan has obsessed over those rocks as if they belong to them. Now, they are being forced to decide between blood and territory. If they choose territory over blood, they do not deserve the kits."

"That… makes sense," mewed Fireheart, eyes wide with growing surprise. "I never realized you were wise."

Darkstar puffed out his chest and preened, before remembering who he was talking to. "Yes, well, I'm sure you would have thought of that yourself if you had been properly raised as a ThunderClan cat."

An awkward and companionable silence filled the den, making Darkstar wonder if Fireheart had left yet. He didn't turn around in case he was wrong.

"I understand," Fireheart managed, dipping his head. He hurried out of the den.

Now assured that he was alone with his new thoughts, Darkstar relaxed. He thought about Greystripe's kits and realized there was a lot of truth in what he had said. RiverClan would probably not care for the kits if they weren't willing to give up their territory for them.

At the same time, if ThunderClan kept the kits, Darkstar knew they would need the extra territory to feed the kits. And considering how long RiverClan had been silent, he realized that he would eventually have to accept that as answer enough. Just how long would he continue waiting before he really did battle RiverClan over them?

The gathering was only a few nights away. Darkstar decided to wait until then and started to clean his paw.

"Darkstar!"

Darkstar stomped his paw down furiously. It seemed that whenever he had a moment to himself, it was always interrupted by something else he couldn't be bothered to be doing.

"What is it?" he snapped.

Dustpelt forced his way into the den, fur bushed out furiously. "Greystripe is missing!"

Darkstar stiffened. "And the kits?"

"Still in the nursery," he mewed begrudgingly.

"Then who cares? Let him go. If he comes back before the end of the day with prey, then I don't care. If he's not back by tomorrow, I'll make the announcement that he's banished."

Dustpelt blinked at him, as if he expected Darkstar to storm out and tear the whole forest apart because Greystripe, the traitor, was missing. "But he's our prisoner."

"Not officially. You were just supposed to watch him." Darkstar's eyes narrowed. "How did you get so distracted with him?"

"I have an apprentice now," Dustpelt grumbled, lashing his tail.

"Then what about Longtail?" Darkstar knew that tom didn't have an apprentice anymore, and he just realized he could have given Longtail Sandstorm's apprentice.

In that way, he would have time to actually approach her about her becoming his mate. And now he just remembered he was lonely and needed a mate.

"I haven't seen him," Dustpelt confessed.

"Well since you can't find Greystripe, you can find him." Darkstar raised his paw again and lapped his tongue meaningfully over his fur.

Dustpelt grumbled to himself and stormed out, leaving Darkstar alone to clean himself. Darkstar purred in triumph, glad he finally had a moment to himself where no one was looking for him, no one was invading his dream, he wasn't looking for anyone, and he was healthy.


	9. Chapter 8

Greystripe returned before nightfall with a few scraps of freshkill and also Fireheart. Where he had gone ultimately didn't matter to Darkstar, nor did he care if Fireheart had been the reason he'd come back. All that mattered was that he didn't have to make a speech about it, and he could laze around all day.

He did not laze around all day. Whitestorm saw to that pretty quickly.

"I have stuff I need to do, Whitestorm," mewed Darkstar, glaring down at the freshkill pile as if daring it to jump up and bite him.

"The freshkill pile is low and likely to get lower," mewed Whitestorm. "We can't focus all of our efforts on battle training."

"What do you think our apprentices are for?"

"And the elders and queens? Who's going to take care of their bedding?"

Darkstar practically growled. "Isn't that what I have you around for?" He had not meant to imply Whitestorm was supposed to take care of the bedding. "You organize all of this so it runs smoothly. I need to focus on the upcoming Gathering."

"That's tomorrow," mewed Whitestorm. "I've been meaning to speak with you about it."

"I will say who goes and who doesn't, Whitestorm," he snapped. "Unless you want to tell me what prey I should be eating as well?"

Whitestorm looked unhappy at the declaration but Darkstar couldn't have cared less. The white tom may be the obvious (and only) choice for deputy but he sure made a lousy one.

At the very least, Whitestorm was starting to realize that he shouldn't be pushing Darkstar this far. "How am I supposed to know you'll approve of anything?"

Now Darkstar stood up and lashed his tail. "Then talk to me after _you_ get an idea of how to deal with... all of it. I'll tell you if your ideas are acceptable or not."

"Very well." Whitestorm wrapped his tail around his paws and stared at the freshkill pile - as if it would rise up and bestow all of StarClan's secrets upon him.

Darkstar snorted and stalked off, praying silently to StarClan that this was the last time Whitestorm was going to ask him mousebrained questions.

He made it to his den only to sneer at the scent of The Kittypet everywhere. "StarClan above, Fireheart, what is it now?"

For his credit, the orange tabby did not flinch at the tone. "I wanted to talk about Greystripe."

"Not this again." Darkstar had been proud of the little speech he had made up on the spot and wasn't ready to confront the possibility that it didn't solve all his Greystripe and Fireheart related problems. "His kits are staying."

"Even if he wants them to go to RiverClan?"

Darkstar rolled his eyes. "Every time I turned around, it's always 'Greystripe wants this' and 'Greystripe wants that'. Well, you know the last time Greystripe wanted something? We ended up with his half-Clan runts and a dead RiverClan queen. I'm tired of hearing what Greystripe wants. If he really wanted what was best for the Clan, he wouldn't be a traitor right now, now would he be?" Darkstar licked his lips and ran his tongue over his paws. "Now, is there something _you_ wanted, or are you just hoping to turn into Greystripe's little StarClan messenger?"

Fireheart deflated. "No, Darkstar."

"Then get out, and don't grace me with your presence again until you come back with fresh prey."

When the scent of Fireheart started to fade and no one else took him somewhere only to ask him how to do their jobs, Darkstar started to relax. And think.

Brokenstar, or Brokentail, was dead. The former ShadowClan leader's body had disappeared from the side of the thunderpath so Darkstar could only assume that ShadowClan had already been made aware of his disappearance. No doubt they were wondering who was in charge now. And so was Tigerclaw, if he was with them.

Darkstar couldn't imagine the former deputy becoming a loner. Maybe a rogue. But more likely he had just joined up with ShadowClan so he could get his own nine lives.

Darkstar fantasized about him and Tigerstar, both with nine lives and their own Clans, possibly destroying all the other Clans to claim the forest as theirs. Darkstar's tail wagged at the thought before he remembered himself and stopped.

The real question was what to do with Yellowfang. ThunderClan needed a medicine cat to train their apprentice, but Yellowfang was growing old in the tooth and probably would retire soon - if Darkstar didn't decide to simply have her thrown out because of her background. They still had no idea if she attacked kits or not, even if it did turn out Brokenstar was lying.

Yes, testing Yellowfang's loyalty superseded everything. He already had an idea of how to do it.

Now, he could focus on the Gathering. If Tigerclaw was with ShadowClan, he would show up there. Darkstar couldn't imagine ShadowClan not letting him come. After all, Tigerclaw was strong and brave, and one of the greatest warriors the forest had ever seen.

But all the worries of the last halfmoon pressed down around him worryingly. Tigerclaw would not be pleased. _He wouldn't kill me._ Redtail's warnings.

His mind whirled with images of a massive black-and-brown tiger bearing down on him, pressing him helplessly against the earth, leaning down to take a bite...

With a shudder, he started to lick his flank until it was flat and sleek. His thoughts drifted back to the Gathering, and he started to wonder who he should bring on the Gathering patrol. Not Fireheart and not Cloudpaw. Not Yellowfang either, if he could help it. And he'd leave behind his loyal warriors to keep an eye on the traitor, Greystripe. That meant no to Dustpelt, Longtail, and Swiftwing.

Goldenflower and the other queens would need to stay behind to protect the kits from Yellowfang, so they were also off-limits.

Then there was the problem of Greystripe's potential sympathizers; Brackenfur, Greystripe's former apprentice, and Willowpelt, Greystripe's mother. If he wanted to avoid giving them ample opportunity to help Greystripe escape, they would both have to come with him to the Gathering.

That left Brackenfur, Thornpaw, Cinderpaw, Mousefur, Brightflower, Whitestorm, Darkstar, and Sandstorm. Darkstar considered the rest of the apprentices and decided Ashpaw and Fernpaw would have to come with, just to prove to RiverClan that ThunderClan was indeed stronger. In fact, he should bring Swiftwing along as well, as a sign of strength.

It might seem a little aggressive, but Darkstar wasn't the trusting former leader. He was raised by Tigerclaw to have an instinct to kill and the skills of their TigerClan ancestors. He was not going to let RiverClan believe for a second that he would cave in a game of patience. He did not play those games.

That was why Brokenstar was dead.

He smelled a new presence in the den and stopped licking himself. "What is it now, Whitestorm?"

"Fireheart and Greystripe are out on a hunting patrol," he mewed. "I sent Sandstorm with them to make sure they did not go near RiverClan's border."

 _That was another problem_ , Darkstar mused. _Greystripe's freedom_. "I don't want Greystripe to be out and about while we are at the Gathering. There's no telling what he's going to do if he stays here."

Whitestorm seemed surprised. "You want him to come with us?"

"Of course not. If I brought him along, I would be leaving more of our warriors here just in case they decide to help him escape. Besides, we need to show our strength to the other Clans and prove to them that we are a Clan not to be reckoned with. We can't have a traitor with us, and we can't have his possible sympathizes stay behind with him."

"So, Fireheart is coming?"

"No, the kittypet and his apprentice stays here. Dustpelt and Longtail will remain behind as well to keep an eye on them. The queens will also stay behind, and Yellowfang will remain here as well."

Whitestorm looked surprised. "Is she injured?"

"No," he mewed. "Cinderpaw is coming instead. We do not want to antagonize ShadowClan and remind them that we have their only well-trained medicine cat, but we do want RiverClan to realize we have an medicine cat apprentice who is more than ready to fill her mentor's pawprints."

"She is barely through her training."

"They won't know that, as long as the Clan remains silent." Darkstar's whiskers twitched disapprovingly. "I want all our new warriors to come on the Gathering Patrol. Sandstorm, Swiftwing, Brightflower, and Brackenfur. I want Willowpelt, Mousefur, and Brindleface with us as well to keep an eye on the younger warriors. Ashpaw, Thornpaw, and Fernpaw will come as well, but are to talk to no cats outside of ThunderClan. Understood?"

Whitestorm nodded slowly. "I will make sure they are ready to leave by tomorrow night."

"Excellent." Darkstar rose to his paws and stretched. He couldn't wait for the Gathering. The thought of seeing Tigerclaw's dark amber eyes made his fur prickle. Then he realized he could see those eyes again and much sooner than that. "I'll visit the nursery and have a look at our next generation."

The nursery wasn't full but the amount of she-cats in it was frankly... mousebrained. Goldenflower and Speckletail, he expected. Brindleface, Frostfur, and Willowpelt? Not so much.

"Are you all pregnant?" he questioned, looking them all over. "Or are you hiding kits I should know about?"

"We all pitch in to help feed the kits," mewed Brindleface placatingly.

"You mean, you all laze around while the rest of worry about prey shortages." He gave the queen a sharp glare. "As the new leader of ThunderClan, I decree that only queens who are currently nursing, pregnant, or have kits to care for can stay in the nursery. Frostfur, Brindleface, Willowpelt, go back to the warrior's den."

Willowpelt looked surprised at her son. "I _am_ pregnant."

Darkstar blinked at his mother and rounded on Frostfur and Brindleface. "Your excuses?"

The two queens hesitated, glanced at each other and the other queens before rising slowly to their paws and padding out. Huffing in satisfaction, Darkstar turned to look over the remaining she-cats. Goldenflower had Tigerclaw's kits nursing at her belly, and Speckletail had Greystripe's kits, while Willowpelt watched.

"I came to ask about Bramblekit and Tawnykit," mewed Darkstar, his mew softening. "When do you think they will be ready to be apprenticed?"

"A few moons from now," mewed Goldenflower, looking a little disturbed. "Is that the only reason you're here?"

Darkstar stared at her and nodded. He glanced briefly at the two kits and decided to visit them later, when the nursery was more welcoming to him being around. "I will check on them all again soon." His gaze drifted to the two silver-grey tabbies, and he blinked. "Greystripe is not allowed anywhere near those kits. If you see him, I want to know about it."

"A father should be allowed to see his kits," rasped Speckletail.

Darkstar shot her a dark glare. "Is _your leader_ understood?"

Her eyes went wide. The oldest queen in ThunderClan opened her mouth to protest but remembered herself. "Yes, Darkstar."

Pleased, Darkstar grunted and turned away, his tail lashing as he exited his den. He did not like being treated so coldly by the Clan but he had to admit that he did like it when they obeyed him. He was leader by right of StarClan, and that thought sent warmth all throughout his body.

"You look... happy."

Darkstar blinked at his deputy, wondering if he had been standing there the whole time. "Yes." He mewed, lashing his tail. "Is there something you need?"

Whitestorm looked a little unnerved. "Brindleface and Frostfur just asked for a patrol."

"Good," mewed Darkstar. "Both of them are going to the Gathering as well."

"I thought you said the queens would be staying?"

"Only the queens who actually have reason to stay." Darkstar curled his lip. "Unless the definition of a queen, a _nursing_ or _pregnant_ she-cat, has changed since I became leader?"

"No, Darkstar."

The black tabby nodded. "Excellent. They will be joining us for the Gathering. I'll make the announcement tomorrow."

* * *

 **A/N: Special thanks to LtKunieda and WyldClaw for your reviews! Ubber apologies for being late to thank you, LtK. I was so focused on cranking out these last three chapters that I completely forgot.**


	10. Chapter 9

"They are ready."

Darkstar stepped out into the camp. A strange creeping anxiety started to engulf him and he frowned at his Clanmates, realizing in the strange quest to get Whitestorm to do his job he had forgotten all about what the other Clans would think about him being leader. Would they accept him?

He studied his Clanmates, noticing that Fireheart and Cloudpaw were outside the apprentice's den, watching the patrol gather with longing. Darkstar felt his fur bristle when he noticed Fernpaw and Ashpaw looking almost apologetically at the white tom.

"Whitestorm," he mewed to the deputy at his side, his eyes darting meaningfully to the two apprentices. "Make a note to not put Cloudpaw on the same patrol as the other apprentices."

The amber-eyed white tom dipped his head. "Yes, Darkstar," he mewed begrudgingly.

A pulse of nervousness shot through him, but he masked it well under a disinterested facade. Whitestorm now understood his role as deputy, but he was not loyal to Darkstar. He was loyal to the Clan. The dark leader's eyes darted to Yellowfang, who seemed to have picked up on the rumors and was staying at the entrance to the medicine cat den, gruffly assuring Cindepraw that she was going to be fine. Darkstar watched until he was sure Cinderpaw wasn't being told any secret messages to send to ShadowClan, then he padded to the head of the patrol, Whitestorm loyally padded behind him.

"ThunderClan," Darkstar announced, "I must stress." He paused, fighting the desire to not look his Clanmates in the eye. "The Clans must know nothing about the troubles we have had with choosing a exact circumstances should never be shared with the rest of the Clans. What happened is between us and StarClan. All they need to know is that Brokentail is dead, Bluestar is dead, and Tigerclaw is gone. Mentors, keep an ear on your apprentices."

For a heartbeat, Darkstar wasn't sure they would obey him. After all, he had only been leader for half a moon.

He forced himself to turn away and pad into the forest. Strange how everything suddenly felt dark and foreboding. He wished for the carefree and frustration of yesterday, and dreaded the reactions from the other Clans today.

But most of all, he dreaded to see Tigerclaw. The cat had to be there. Darkstar could imagine him among the other Clans, gazing up at him with dark eyes, eyes that had looked at Redtail and promised death, eyes that could look at him the same way.

They padded out of the ravine. Darkstar walked slowly. They were leaving far earlier than what was custom for ThunderClan. Darkstar wanted to be the first to arrive at Fourtrees, to be ahead of the other leaders and maybe see Tigerclaw fcae-to-face. But now that he was on his way, his paws felt like they wanted nothing more than to drag through the leaves.

"Are you alright?" Whitestorm mewed, ears flicking forward as his gaze pointedly dropped to Darkstar's paws.

Darkstar's ears flicked back to the dead silence of his Clanmates. He forced himself to keep at a slow pace but subtly sped up. Whietstorm made no comment, and Darkstar was grateful the Clan remained silent.

They reached Fourtrees just before moonhigh. Darkstar stared down the steep slopes to the center of the valley where the Great Rock sat, painted silver in the thin streams of moonlight which filtered through the high canopy, painting gray leaves onto the rock surface. His yellow eyes pierced the darkness, searching for a broad and familiar tabby shape, but he saw nothing. He felt instantly relieved, energetic even, but also disappointed.

"Let's go," he murmured to himself, raising his tail and launching himself down the slopes.

ThunderClan paws pounded against the rocks, their hard paw pads long since used to racing down and up stone slopes. They reached their customary spot at the bottom, staying close together and settling in various spots. Like a bird's shadow, Darkstar darted up the massive rock and settled upon the silver top. When no other Clan immediately appeared, he began licking his flank until his fur was flat and sleek.

It was a while before the next Clan arrived. WindClan raced down into the clearing, their pale short-furred coats turned silver in the sunlight. Their triangular fox ears and regal, fox-like faces contrasted sharply with the lion-like muzzles of ThunderClan cats. Darkstar hide his disgust under a bored expression, as the leader of WindClan leaped up onto the rock like a cat a fraction of his age. The black and white frail tom halted, staring with surprise at the black tabby.

Darkstar realized with growing surprise that Tallstar did not even know his warrior name.

"It's Darkstar," he growled, straightening up and unable to suppress the angry lash of his tail. "I am the new leader of ThunderClan."

Realizing he might have been rude, Tallstar dipped his head, one equal to another. "Greetings, Darkstar. It is… surprising to see you here. Bluestar was a wise and intelligent leader. She will be missed."

Darkstar gave a small, refusing to interrupt his regal pose. "I suppose it is not that hard to realize why my rise to leadership may be surprising. A very strange series of unfortunate events led to me gaining my nine lives."

"I can imagine," Tallstar mewed calmly. "What became of Tigerclaw?"

Darkstar fought hard to keep his face neutral and merely blinked at the tom. "He had to step down."

The leader of WindClan dipped his head and said nothing more.

Darkstar turned away and wrapped his tail around his paws, promising to himself not to say anything more about Tigerclaw throughout the remainder of the Gathering.

 _Why does it even matter? He's not even here._

ShadowClan arrives shortly after that. Their small, broad-boned bodies were thin and sickly looking. Only Nightstar looked good, his pelt clean and his thin muscles hard under his short fur. In fact, he looked seasons younger. He leaped up onto the Great Rock like he was leaping for the sky instead and landed neatly next to Darkstar.

"Tallstar," mewed the tom, dipping his head to the leader respectfully but quickly. He turned his gaze to Darkstar. "So, it is you ShadowClan must thank for Brokenstar's death."

Darkstar blinked. "I did what I needed to protect my Clan." His face was a mask of intrigue. "Was he really such a pain for you, Nightstar?"

The older black tom blinked. "StarClan had refused to give me my nine lives because he still lived. When ShadowClan found his body, I knew right away that someone else had become leader of ThunderClan. ShadowClan is grateful that it was you."

"Grateful that it wasn't some soft-hearted..." Darkstar trailed off, his eyes dropping to scan the clearing for Fireheart but the tom was back in camp. "Anyway, I have a few announcements to make. If you would be so kind, I would like to speak first."

"I agree. I am curious as to what has happened in ThunderClan." Nightstar looked absently at Tallstar.

"I also agree," mewed the WindClan leader. His black and white pelt twitched over old muscles. "WindClan is also curious."

It took too long before RiverClan showed up. A golden she-cat lead them, her unusual black spots creating dark flower patterns in her fur. She quickly leaped up onto the Great Rock and turned to address the entire Gathering before greeting the three new leaders. Darkstar bristled furiously.

"Cats of all Clans-" she stopped when Darkstar butted into her shoulder. The she-cat whipped around, claws unsheathed.

"Your discourtesy is expected of RiverClan filth," he mewed, voice loud in the sudden silence. "Especially considering your status as deputy."

Her eyes flashed coldly. "I am deputy no longer. You may address me as Leopardstar."

"I won't address you as _anything_ if you keep up this attitude. If you had gotten here on time, you would have known that I was going to go first, as agreed by every other Clan here."

"RiverClan did not agree-"

"RiverClan was not on time. They don't get to make decisions if they aren't willing to respect the other Clans."

Leopardstar looked furiously at Tallstar and Nightstar, demanding that one of them recast their vote but the two toms were immobile.

Tallstar let out a long sigh. "We are all curious as to what Darkstar has to say about Brokenstar's death."

The golden she-cat gritted her teeth and fought back a furious yowl. "Very well." She stormed to the edge of the Great Rock on RiverClan's side and wrapped her tail around her paws, fuming.

Darkstar was pleased with this and did not feel as anxious as back when he addressed his own Clan half a moon ago. His yellow eyes swept over the gathered cats. "Brokenstar is dead," he announced, forcing his voice to be smooth and powerful. "He and a ThunderClan traitor orchestrated an attack on our camp, collaborating with a group of former ShadowClan cats as well as various rogues from outside of the Clan. Some of our warriors died during the attack, an attack that was designed to kill our leader. Bluestar lost her last life that day, and our deputy was so disgusted that he _abandoned_ the Clan." Darkstar paused. He remembered how Tigerstar had asked him to come with and how he had refused because Tigerstar never said anything about working with Brokenstar. "StarClan sent a sign to make me the new leader of ThunderClan, and I have received my nine lives from the Moonstone, as is tradition, so know that I stand before all of you as it's rightful leader." He shot a pointed look at Leopardstar, who fumed. "My first edict was to cut out the traitors from within, including Brokenstar."

Tallstar let out a rush of words. "What of Fireheart?"

Nightstar mewed less hurriedly. "What of Yellowfang?"

"Fireheart did not betray the Clan," Darkstar admitted begrudgingly. "We are... investigating Yellowfang just to be safe."

Tallstar was relieved, while Nightstar simply nodded mutely.

"My second act as leader was to shelter two half-Clan kits whose mother, a RiverClan she-cat, tragically died on our side of the river." Darkstar was pleased when no RiverClan cat objected, even as his eyes narrowed. "The RiverClan she-cat had fallen for a ThunderClan warrior and given birth to his kits, but there were complications. She died of blood loss before our medicine cats could arrive in time to save her. Her kits, a tom and she-kit, are currently being nursed by our oldest queen, Speckletail. They are healthy and strong." Darkstar paused. "Since their mother died due to the neglect of RiverClan and RiverClan has suffered famine multiple times due to their dependence on the river while ThunderClan has remained strong, ThunderClan has decided to keep the kits."

Outrage. It welled up from the RiverClan cats as one voice, even as ThunderClan remained silent in shock. Leopardstar leaped to the front, her fur spiked out furiously, and Darkstar barely stopped himself from flinching away, his tail lashing with barely contained glee.

"RiverClan objects!" Her voice silence the yowls of the RiverClan cats. "The kits belong to their mother's Clan."

"Their mother is dead!" yowled Darkstar. "The only family those kits have is their father. Would you tear them from him, knowing that would only be two more mouths RiverClan can't even feed?" His eyes were bright. "We have more nursing queens than RiverClan. They will not burden us as they would burden RiverClan. It would be _neglectful_ of ThunderClan to let them stay in RiverClan paws!"

ThunderClan started to yowl their support, which quickly grew loud enough to challenge RiverClan's quieting yowls. Darkstar felt warmth from his paws to his ears, his chest swelling with pride, and he looked at Leopardstar as if daring her to argue.

"RiverClan has complained a lot about the poisoned river," agreed Tallstar evenly. "It would not be wise to let them have the kits."

"The mother is dead," agreed Nightstar. "Does RiverClan have any other nursing queens?"

"Mosspelt," mewed Leopardstar, but if it was a counterargument it sounded flimsy and weak.

Darkstar almost purred. "We have Speckletail, Goldenflower, and Willowpelt. The kits would be well fed if they stayed with ThunderClan." He looked between the two other leaders. "Is it agreed that the kits should stay with ThunderClan?"

The two other leaders gave quiet nods which only seemed to make Leopardstar more furious. "Other Clans do not decide for RiverClan cats!"

"Grow up, she-cat," Darkstar mewed dismissively. "Of course, they have no say in what happens to the kits. They were only saying what _should_ happen to them, what would be the wisest choice to make."

The shocked silence of RiverClan's leader caused the whole Gathering to fall silent, eagerly anticipating what would be done or said next.

Darkstar lifted his head. "This has gone on long enough," he mewed. "It has been decided that the wisest choice is to leave the kits in ThunderClan paws." _If RiverClan attacked us now, they would be seen as fools._ "Nightstar, I'm sure you would like to speak next."

Leopardstar rose to her full height and snarled. "RiverClan's claim will not be so easily dismissed, Darkstar. This Gathering is over-"

"The Gathering is not over," yowled Darkstar. "ThunderClan will stay to hear out the news of the other Clans. If the _kitten_ who calls herself RiverClan's leader wishes to leave, then so be it."

For heartbeat, it almost looked like Leopardstar would attack Darkstar right then and there. The golden she-cat hissed lowly, but stayed on the Great Rock.

"The newest RiverClan leader has much to learn," Darkstar mewed loudly, triumphant, "thinking that she can decide when a Gathering should be or not be dismissed based solely on her own injured pride. Does she think she can command _StarClan_? It is _they_ who decide when we should leave, they who decide if this Gathering should be held in the first place. This entire Gathering _should_ demand an apology from this _deputy,_ but she has already wasted enough of our time." Without another word, Darkstar stepped back from the edge of the rock and dipped his head to Nightstar.

The frail black ShadowClan leader rose and stepped forward to address the Clan. "As Darkstar said, Brokenstar is dead. We found his body beside the Thunderpath. ShadowClan is strong now that their leader has his full nine lives. We have no other news to report."

He stepped back as Tallstart stepped forward. "WindClan is stronger now than ever. Rabbits run freely on the moors and our bellies are full."

Darkstar didn't need to turn around to know that Leopardstar had already leaped off the Great Rock and was rejoining her Clanmates as he spoke. "It's good to hear the other Clans are doing well," he mewed silkily. "I wish you both well in the coming moons."

They shared a final nod, before Darkstar gracefully leaped down to rejoin his Clanmates. He lifted his tail, signaled for silence, and checked to make sure everyone was present before racing back to his territory. The moment they crossed their borders and the cold stream, ThunderClan burst into excited yowls.

"Did you see the way Darkstar told Leopardstar off?" a warrior mewed loudly.

"StarClan couldn't have picked anyone better," agreed another.

He didn't turn around to identify who had spoken, his mind already moved on to other things.

 _If Tigerclaw wasn't at the Gathering, where could he be?_

 _Should he even be worried?_


	11. Chapter 10

Darkstar padded across a small path of stones that led towards Snakerocks, only half-aware of the scents around him. He caste furtive, hopeful glances into the dark shadows across the Thunderpath, hoping to see a glimpse of black-and-brown tabby pelt but there was nothing. His tail was low, the tail-tip twitching over a few twigs, startling a squirrel that bolted instantly up the nearest tree.

 _He's not here, he was never here..._

Like every other mantra in his skull that involved Tigerclaw, Darkstar didn't listen. He paused near some spring fronds to rub his cheek against it before carrying on.

It had been a few days since the Gathering and Darkstar mostly kept to himself, only returning to the camp to speak with Whitestorm about the latest news from the RiverClan border patrol. Pretty soon, he would have to go through with his plan to take Sunningrocks. He wasn't sure what was stopping him, or why he felt disappointed or lost, and he eventually decided to head towards the ShadowClan border.

Now he just wished Tigerclaw was here, even if it was just to beat another lesson into his head.

 _What am I supposed to do for you, Tigerclaw?_

With a sigh, he turned his nose back to camp and followed the shallow trickling stream that separated the rest of ThunderClan territory from the border with Fourtrees. He smelled fresh scent from his Clanmates, a warrior and his apprentice, possibly learning about all the places in ThunderClan territory that were good hunting this time of the season.

He slithered down the ravine into the entrance of ThunderClan camp, and bristled when he smelled the soft scent of the kittypet tom.

"Fireheart, what is it now?"

The fiery orange tabby blinked back at him. "I wanted to talk about the Gathering with you?"

Darkstar narrowed his eyes, feeling more than a little emotionally drained from his disappointing trip. "Very well." He cocked his head toward the den and padded swiftly across camp, not looking any cat in the eye. As he settled into his nest, Darkstar turned a baleful eye on the orange tabby. "What is it?"

"I was wondering why you went behind RiverClan's back like that."

"Like what?"

"You decided to keep the kits."

Darkstar shook his head. "How does that imply I went behind their back? They never responded to us about the kits and, if they were going to, it would have been completely unreasonable given the circumstances to give them the kits. They will learn that ThunderClan is not one to respond to _passive aggressive_ stupidity."

Fireheart grimaced. "But Greystripe-"

Darkstar rose to his full height. "If you dare mention that name again-"

"But he's the father-"

"A kittypet should not pretend to understand Clan politics-"

"I'm not-"

"Then stop trying to tell me what to do!"

"I'm just trying to-"

"To what? Pretend you know better about what to do than a Clanborn, _StarClan-chosen_ leader of your Clan?"

"...It's not right."

Darkstar snorted. "Only to soft-hearts like you. The Clan needs the kits, so they will keep the kits. The Clan needs even more territory, so we will take Sunningrocks. That is it. Don't overthink it."

The orange tabby blinked, his voice growing firm in anger. "I disagree, Darkstar. The situation is more complex and nuanced than you're making it out to be."

"What did I just say about _pretending to understand_ Clan politics? We don't live in a nice comfy twolegnest unlike your kittypet friends." Darkstar made a point to pause here, to remind the orange tabby that he knew he visited twolegplace often and that that was where Cloudpaw had come from. "We don't have the luxury to concern ourselves with _nuances_. Our goal is survival."

Fireheart fluffed out his fur. "It seems to me that going to war is the opposite of _surviving_. You're asking cats to die."

"To defend their Clanmates, to defend their Clan," Darkstar snapped. "If you didn't know already, kittypet, a Clan can only become as large as their territory. We're the smallest Clan out there because we are hedged in by two Clans and twolegs. We have all of treecutplace but no one ever hunts there because it's loud and all the prey gets scared away. Sunningrocks is the only piece of territory that we can actually claim without losing all our warriors when trying to uproot a whole Clan." Darkstar's jaw clicked shut, his eyes narrowed as he watched his words sink in.

Fireheart stared at the black tabby, speechless.

"Now," mewed Darkstar, pleased with the silence, "is there anything else your former mentor should have taught you that need to be educated on?"

The orange tabby bristled. "You're saying that you care about ThunderClan?"

"ThunderClan has the most pure blood in the whole forest. RiverClan is practically half-kittypet, using only the laziest methods of hunting. ShadowClan's former leader, Raggedstar and Brokenstar, both were half-kittypets. And WindClan was great friends with a group of traveling loners only a generation ago, during Tallstar's time as a warrior. ThunderClan does not have that same history, not before you. All our kits have been half-Clan."

"You would prefer half-Clan cats to kittypets?" Fireheart seemed surprised that Darkstar would care about any warrior not born a purebred ThunderClan cat.

"At least they have full warrior blood." Darkstar remembered Bluestar's words, about how the wildcats were all descended from kittypets. _Regardless, we don't look like kittypets now._ "You're only still here because StarClan seems to like you, Fireheart. I can't understand why, but whatever StarClan says must go." He shivered as if from a chill. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

"You say you care about ThunderClan blood," Fireheart mewed, "but two of RiverClan's warriors are half-ThunderClan."

"What." Darkstar stared at Fireheart speechlessly.

"Stonefur and Mistyfoot," Fireheart explained, a mix of sudden nervousness and steady determination keeping his mouth moving. "They were Bluestar's kits."

Darkstar imagined the two warriors and their blue-grey tabby pelts. He simply could not wrap his head around it. He felt like the whole world had suddenly bucked under him and he was struggling to find purchase on moving soil. Finally, he settled on one word. "Leave."

Fireheart blinked, dread creeping into his expression. "Darkstar-"

"Leave!" Darkstar barely stopped himself from attacking the tom.

Eyes wide, Fireheart retreated. Darkstar stood in the silence of the den, his fur on end and his eyes wide.

"Bluestar's kits are alive?" he whispered. The darkness gave no response. His mind reeled, trying to dredged up everything he knew about Bluestar, her relationship with Thrushpelt, the disappearing kits, how RiverClan accepted the idea that they were- "Oakheart's kits?"

Then he remembered her words in StarClan. "An excuse," he snarled. "It's all been an excuse." _Of course, she'd want to believe that the Clans used to be loners, rogues, and kittypets. She doesn't want to accept what she did, her half-Clan relationship, all of it, how it went against the warrior code._ But then he stopped and stood still. _If it was against the warrior code, what is she doing in StarClan?_

Darkstar didn't understand. He couldn't wrap his brain around it, and it mentally hurt to think about too much. He shoved the whole thing aside, his mind turning to the upcoming battle.

" _I_ decide what is best for _my Clan_ ," he mewed aloud. "Every one of them."

And Greystripe - or Bluestar, or Leopardstar - was not going to take that away from him.

He rose to his paws and padded out of the den.

"Whitestorm," he yowled, waiting only long enough for the white tom to pad into range so he could quietly mew. "We leave for battle at dawn."


	12. Chapter 11

Dawn arrived with a fine rosy-grey mist that covered the clearing around Sunningrocks, painting the smooth boulders in red. The air was stale and chilly, with only the few scant rays of the sun to warm their coats.

Darkstar lead his patrol of warriors with Fireheart and Whitestorm at his heels. He had decided it wouldn't be wise to leave Fireheart behind, or his apprentice. As a Greystripe sympathizer, he might have plotted with Greystripe to have the kits moved from the Clan.

Every cat else had been chosen because of their pelt color; the light greys of Brindleface, Willowpelt, Ashpaw, and Fernpaw, plus the pale ginger pelts of Sandstorm, and finally the mostly white cats like Whitestorm, Frostfur, Cloudpaw, Swiftwing, and Brightflower. Their coats helped them to blend into the fog, which made this stealth attack perfect. This left Speckletail and Goldenflower in the nursery, and Dustpelt, Longtail, Mousefur, Runningwind, Thornpaw and Brackenfur to guard the camp. And Greystripe, if they could really count the traitor.

Whitestorm stepped up to his shoulder. "The dawn patrol won't be around until after the mist clears."

"Remark the border," Darkstar hissed into the fog. His warriors darted out over the clearing, many more than a regular battle patrol, and vanished into the fog. "Apprentices at the back. For the moment, they will only be watching the fight."

"We want to fight," blurted out Cloudpaw loudly.

Darkstar stared at the tom, but the white tom was unaffected, staring back boldly. With swift, graceful movements, Darkstar turned and shoved the heavy tom away with his claws unsheathed. Startled, the white apprentice rolled to his feet, his thick pelt having protected him from the claws, his eyes wide in shock. Darkstar's cold yellow eyes bore into his pale blue eyes, unnerving the young tom. With an awkward dip of his head, his fur bristling nervously, he retreated back with the other apprentices. Darkstar scanned the white tom's pelt in disappointment, but remembered the feel of the soft fat of the former kittypet and his eyes narrowed in disgust.

"Did you have to be so harsh?" Fireheart mewed softly, but he was ignored.

"Whitestorm, assign Sandstorm to keep an eye on the apprentices. If we need the back up, she'll need to be near them to give the orders."

"Yes, Darkstar." The white tom swiftly padded over to the pale she-cat, muttered a few words, before the she-cat dipped her head in understanding and disappeared with the apprentices.

"Fireheart." Darkstar turned towards the only ThunderClan warrior still beside him. "Order the rest of the patrol to surround Sunningrocks. Stay hidden. Be prepared to attack on my signal." He blinked at the fog, weighing how long it would take before it fully dissipated.

"Understood, Darkstar." The orange tom begrudgingly padded away.

With everything ready, Darkstar launched himself to the top of Sunningrocks. His eyes scanned the fog as it slowly revealed the edge of the river. When it was high enough, the RiverClan cats were forced to come out of hiding - fog or no fog. He could see their dark shapes in the fog, four cats total. The adults dwarfed the two apprentices, the latter were about the same size as ThunderClan warriors and apprentices. RiverClan, out of all the Clans, kept growing even after the fourth season.

 _They are nothing like us_ , Darkstar thought, tail twitching moodily. _Whatever similarities we had in the past are gone now._

 _"RiverClan!"_ he yowled, his voice loud.

For a heartbeat, he thought the fog had swallowed up his voice and cursed himself for not thinking this part of the plan through. But then the four shadows emerged. Blackclaw, the oldest warrior of RiverClan, saw Darkstar first. Beside him, Heavypaw, Shadepaw, and Stonefur came to a sudden halt, their long fur bristling.

"You've changed the border," mewed Blackclaw, his face stony.

"Yes, I did," mewed Darkstar, bemused at the warrior's observation.

"Sunningrocks belongs to RiverClan!" yowled Heavypaw, fur bushed out furiously. He looked cute beside his dark mentor.

Darkstar ignored him. "RiverClan cares nothing about their own kits. They have refused to answer my demands and thus lose the right to both the kits and this territory. ThunderClan declares Sunningrocks as ours!"

Blackclaw scanned the clearing nervously. "Did ThunderClan's leader come alone?" He sounded incredulous.

"Come and find out."

The open challenge did not give Blackclaw confidence, but Heavypaw boldly stepped forward. "ThunderClan is too stupid to-!"

Darkstar lashed his tail once and the nearest ThunderClan warrior, Swiftwing, leaped clear of the glass and pinned the apprentice on the ground. Heavypaw yowled in shock and immediately began squirming, but Swiftwing bit his ear threateningly, causing the tom to freeze.

"Let him go," Blackclaw growled. "You've made your point."

"Have I?" Darkstar mewed, feeling a tiny bit smug.

An expression of dread crept across the senior warrior's face before his face become hard once more. "It is not our decision to make. We cannot give you Sunningrocks without Leopardstar's permission."

"Of course not," Darkstar purred. "And we can't let Heavypaw go without teaching him a lesson."

Heavypaw screeched as blood poured down his ear. Swiftwing held him down steadily. Darkstar felt a flash of pride in the warrior, pleased that he already knew what he was supposed to do in this instance.

"Considering this your last warning," Darkstar yowled.

Swiftwing leaped back and disappeared into the grass, and Darkstar saw his black and white pelt stealthily slink around to the back of Sunningrocks. From the looks of Stonefur and Shadepaw, neither of them had any idea where he had gone, and Darkstar felt pleasure at how unnerved the RiverClan cats had become. Heavypaw rushed to Blackclaw's side, looking around wildly for his attacker.

"We will inform Leopardstar," promised Blackclaw, firmly.

Darkstar gave him a dismissive wave of his tail. "We'll be waiting."

The first thing an apprentice learns when hunting is patience. Tigerclaw had been a natural at patience, especially when he knew the rewards were good. Darkstar, on the other paw, simply had liked to take his time with things. If he was going to catch a mouse, he was going to do it on his own terms and not when the mouse decided to run into his paws or his Clanmates decided to help it into his waiting claws. He could do it fine on his own.

But waiting for a battle to begin tried even a senior warrior's patience. Darkstar felt hunger start to pang his paws, plus he was starting to dislike Leopardstar for waiting for the fog to clear. It had retreated so much that he could see the other shores of the lake. Eventually, he turned around and murmured to Whitestorm.

"Tell Sandstorm that the apprentices can start hunting in the forest now. We can fight on full bellies. Swiftwing, stand up here with me. Everyone else, keep in your positions."

The RiverClan battle patrol appeared on the other side of the river. The warriors were massive beside their apprentices, but there were only four in total with two blue-grey apprentices beside them. A standard battle patrol's amount. With the leader, that made a total of seven cats.

By the time a RiverClan battle patrol had crossed the river, Swiftwing and Darkstar were laying out on top of Sunningrocks, licking the blood from their lips. Darkstar gazed at the RiverClan cats with hooded, unconcerned eyes, his tail flicking sharply behind him, even as he mentally counted the warriors in his head and compared his to their. He heard a cat behind Sunningrocks hiss sharply, and knew he warriors were quickly abandoning their meals to retake their positions. The RiverClan patrol was too busy watching Darkstar and Swiftwing to notice grass moving without a wind.

"Darkstar!" Leopardstar's golden spotted pelt twitched and rippled with agitation. "You remember our agreement?"

"Of course I do."

"You said if we let you keep the kits that Sunningrocks would be ours by rights!"

Darkstar rose to his paws, tail lashing furiously. "I said that if you really want the kits, you will have to swear off ever fighting over Sunningrocks again. I never said that if you let us keep the kits that we would let you continue having it. Pay attention to what I actually _say_ , fluff-ears."

Leopardstar snarled and raised her tail for the attack, her focus on Darkstar. Darkstar countered by raising his own tail in a silent signal to attack, then he bolted forward, Swiftwing hard on his heels. Darkstar slammed into Leopardstar, biting down into her neck and earning an enraged yowl. They twisted together, and Darkstar felt her skin pull in his mouth as he bit down. The larger cat twisted onto her back, suffocating Darkstar under her long fur. Darkstar's hindclaws slashed forward, battering at flesh before Leopardstar whipped away, yowling angrily.

"Coward!" she spat. "We had an agreement! Those kits belong to their mother's Clan!"

Darkstar sneered. "You mean like Oakheart and Bluestar's kit belong to her Clan?" He slashed viciously across Leopardstar's startled face and leaped onto her back, but Leopardstar threw him off with a quick buck before he could grab hold.

"Are you trying to kill me?!" Leopardstar sounded more fearful than enraged.

Darkstar laughed. "You're the leader of your Clan, Leopardstar. We're the only cats who can't die."

He leaped, this time sinking his claws in and feeling his teeth chew down into spine. Leopardstar screeched, lashing out with her backlegs. Darkstar tucked his hindlegs closer under him to avoid ruining his pelt, overbalancing Leopardstar and trapping himself under her back again. But his teeth sank down and with a last yowl, Leopardstar twitched and lay still. Triumphant, Darkstar rose to his paws and flicked his tail, sneering down at her dead body before remembering he was in a battle.

All around him, ThunderClan warriors burst out of hiding, their paws thundering across the earth as they slammed into the nearest RiverClan warriors. One ThunderClan warrior to each RiverClan apprentice, and two ThunderClan warriors to one RiverClan warrior.

"Leopardstar is dead!" he yowled, lashing his tail. "RiverClan has lost."

The cats broke up, confusion spreading across their face.

"Sunningrocks belongs to ThunderClan!" he continued, feeling glee at their shocked and devastated faces. "RiverClan, you can take your leader and go."

Stonefur staggered over to his fallen leader, an expression of unease on his face. "Did you have to kill her?"

Darkstar gave the tom a funny look. "Warriors may not be killed in battle, but you are looking at a leader of your Clan. If she has truly been chosen by StarClan, then she will come back. Her death is a sign that you have lost this battle."

Stonefur mewed in response. "But a leader is a warrior like any of us. It's against the warrior code."

"No, she is _not_ a warrior. She is beyond a mere warrior. She has _nine lives_ , gifts of StarClan." His eyes narrowed. "She is the only cat which the warrior code can allow to die on the battlefield. You should be glad that it wasn't someone whose death was permanent."

Darkstar stalked away, frowning and brooding as he remembered his own issues with Bluestar being in StarClan. Perhaps... half-Clan relationships weren't forbidden? He shook the thought aside with a shudder.

"ThunderClan!" he yowled. "We are victorious!"

ThunderClan yowled in triumph. Darkstar took special note of who yowled the loudest; Swiftwing. He turned around to watch the RiverClan cats hurry across the RiverClan, feeling pleased that he had gained a serious victory for the Clan. It would probably be after Darkstar was gone that RiverClan decided to continue hostilities. And if they continued to argue for Sunningrocks while he was alive, well, they would know Leopardstar only had so many lives left.


	13. Chapter 12

It was sunhigh, and Darkstar hadn't been in camp all day. At this point, it was probably pretty clear to Whitestorm that Darkstar was going to be lazy and he couldn't do anything about it. Darkstar had earned it. He had won ThunderClan a sound victory at Sunningrocks, and he wanted nothing more than to lay out on the warm rocks and sun himself until the next RiverClan attack.

His yellow gaze swept the border, and he stiffened as a dark tabby cat slipped into the water. There were no other warriors behind them, however, so this could not be a battle patrol or a border patrol. Darkstar didn't know what to think of this.

The dark tabby emerged out of the water. Darkstar's heart skipped a beat and he stared at the warrior in shock.

"Tigerclaw," he mewed, his lips half-quirking up in spite of himself. "It has been a while."

"Darkstripe- Or Darkstar, as I hear you're being called."

Tigerclaw did not look happy which instantly put Darkstar on edge. He tried to keep his voice smooth and casual. "What were you doing in RiverClan territory?"

"I am the RiverClan deputy now." Tigreclaw stated this so matter-of-factly that Darkstar couldn't help but think that he was silly for asking since the answer was so obvious.

"Of course." Darkstar easily recovered from his shock. "It's only natural since you are the greatest warrior in the forest."

Tigerclaw's eyes flashed. "I hear you won a great victory the other day."

"I did." Darkstar puffed out his chest in pride, pleased that his former mentor would bother to keep up with his activities. "The battle was easily won. Leopardstar is not exactly the smartest leader."

"You are smart," Tigerclaw mewed with a hint of pride in his voice. "You were trained by the best."

"Yes." Darkstar admitted that he felt a little put out at Tigerclaw's choice of wording. Like Darkstar didn't have value before Tigerclaw put some into him. But he quickly dismissed; Darkstar would have been a much poorer warrior if he had been trained by any cat but Tigerclaw. "Is that why you're here?"

The brown-and-black tabby's tail twitched moodily over the grass before standing still. Tigerclaw's expression never changed. "I have missed ThunderClan. I think about my son often."

Darkstar blinked. "Bramblekit and Tawnykit are doing fine. Goldenflower is taking good care of them."

"You understand why I would be concerned," he mewed. "Goldenflower did not even look at me when I left. She is probably poisoning my kits against me as we speak."

"That... would be bad." Darkstar had never thought of that, but it made sense since Tigerclaw's reputation in ThunderClan was at an all time low.

"I would love to see them," Tigerclaw continued.

"That's understandable," mewed Darkstar.

An awkward silence hung between them. Darkstar's gaze swept the border, barely registering the way Tigerclaw's tail twitched impatiently over the grass. He wondered if Tigerclaw was worried about being missed around RiverClan camp.

"You've never met your kits, have you?" Darkstar mewed at last.

"I had been busy when I was deputy. You understand."

Darkstar did not but decided to give Tigerclaw the benefit of the doubt. "Why don't I bring them over and let you see them?"

Tigerclaw smiled. "I think that would be a good idea."

Pleased that Tigerclaw was pleased, Darkstar rose to his paws. "I'll bring them over tonight. We can meet here at Sunningrocks. A patrol should not be able to distinguish your scent from RiverClan's - and even if they do, I'll handle it."

"I'll see you then."

Darkstar watched Tigerclaw gracefully pad into the river, his muscles rippling under his fur. With a sigh, he turned away from Sunningrocks and padded into the heart of ThunderClan territory.

* * *

It was dark, the night was loud with frogs and crickets chirping at each other. Darkstar already regretted his decision to bring the kits to their father as he padded carefully through the forest to Sunningrocks, the two loud-mouths padding close behind him.

"What is that?" asked Bramblekit for the umpteenth time, pointing his nose at a blackberry bush.

"My paws are tired. Why is the forest covered in stickly stuff?" mewed Tawnykit, bounding over a prickly leaf.

"Quiet," he hissed. "You can ask all those questions when you become apprentices."

Bramblekit stumbled to a halt, his nose scrunched up. "But doesn't this mean we're apprentices now?"

"Of course not," Darkstar mewed back. He was grateful to see the very edge of the forest where it opened out into the clearing surrounding Sunningrocks. "We're almost there."

They padded quietly in to the open area, and Darkstar fought the instinctive urge to shrink away. If it wasn't prime piece of huntable territory and a warm place during the day, Darkstar thought he might have just let RiverClan have it.

"Where is he?" Bramblekit mewed.

Darkstar led them to the opposite side of the clearing silently and was grateful when both kits went quiet. RiverClan camp was within visual distance, and he wasn't sure he shouldn't be worried about the shadows.

 _Why did I thinking bringing kits out here was a good idea?_

A dark broad-shouldered shape emerged out of the river, his pelt sleek and oily like a RiverClan tom's. Darkstar stiffened instinctively before relaxing at the sight of Tigerclaw's bright amber eyes.

"Hello, Bramblekit," he practically purred. "Hello, Tawnykit."

Darkstar felt a little put out that he didn't receive a hello but reminded himself that these were Tigerclaw's kits. Of course he'd focus on them more than his former apprentice. It still stung, though.

"Who are you?" mewed Bramblekit.

"Are you RiverClan?" mewed Tawnykit.

Darkstar interrupted them. "This is your father, Tigerclaw, one of the greatest warriors in the whole forest."

They both blinked at up Tigerclaw with wide, awed eyes.

"Would you like to learn a hunting crouch?" mewed Tigerclaw.

The two kits eagerly jumped forward at the chance of learning warrior moves. Tigerclaw taught them the basics and then let them loose on Sunningrocks, leaving more time for him and Darkstar to talk.

"I've been thinking long and hard about this," Tigerclaw mewed, his voice heavy with serious thoughts. "ThunderClan and RiverClan would benefit greatly from being united. No more battles over Sunningrocks, no more worrying about half-Clan kits."

Darkstar _hmmed_ thoughtfully, his gaze turning to the two ThunderClan kits. They wobbled as they practiced stalking, their legs struggling to keep them upright long enough for them to leap and tumble through the grasses. All their earlier fatigue was forgotten.

"It would settle the dispute over the ThunderClan and RiverClan litters."

"Litters?"

"Yes. Haven't you heard? Bluestar's kit apparently survived. They've been in RiverClan this whole time."

Tigerclaw's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, a dark gleam in them. Darkstar felt a tiny shiver despite himself and shushed it quickly.

Tigerclaw moved on. "Have you picked a mate yet?"

Darkstar blinked at him. "I have not."

"Goldenflower may pick a new mate soon," Tigerclaw mused aloud. "If not, there's always the younger generation."

The black tabby pictured the golden queen in his minds eye, wondering if Tigerclaw was trying to tell him something by admitting that Goldenflower was over him. Darkstar had been thinking about getting a mate, but now that Goldenflower was suddenly available, Darkstar wondered if the she-cat would notice him. After his stunning success at Sunninrocks, surely she would.

"I should make them aware that I'm looking," Darkstar hedged. "A pretty she-cat would be perfect to keep the cold out this leaf-bare."

Tigerclaw nodded slowly, as if realizing something. "That's right. It must be cold in that den of yours." He frowned. "You dealt with Brokenstar pretty well. Are the kittypets dead?"

Darkstar did not want to tell the tom that Fireheart and his nephew was still alive. Instead, he mewed defensively. "What do you think?"

That seemed to settle the issue, and Darkstar felt a small bit of relief over it. Even so, he wondered what might happen if Tigerclaw thought Fireheart was still alive. After all that fighting over the kits and Sunningrocks, Darkstar did not want to lose another warrior. Best to keep him a secret then.

"I should probably take them back to camp." Darkstar rose to his paws and stretched. "There's only so many questions I'll be able to answer."

"I would like to speak with them once more before you go." Tigerclaw's tail lashed furiously.

Darkstar winced internally. "I can always bring them back in a half-moon."

Tigerclaw relaxed somewhat, but didn't look at him. "Bramblekit, Tawnykit."

The two kits took a moment to race over, panting from their play.

"It's time for us to part," Tigerclaw mewed sadly, his voice dripping with emotion.

Darkstar wondered if he would ever speak to Darkstar like that.

"I know you both are going to be brave warriors. Keep practicing your skills and maybe one day we'll meet again. In the mean time, do whatever Darkstar says. He knows what is best for both of you."

The two kits nodded their understanding, subdued now that their secret meeting was over.

Darkstar nodded to himself. "Let's go."

He led the kits back to the heart of ThunderClan territory, feeling strangely like eyes were boring into his back. But when he looked over his shoulder, Tigerclaw was already gone and there was no other cats in sight. _  
_

* * *

Dustpelt stormed into the leader's den, his fur bristling with barely contained alarm. "We scented Tigerclaw on the RiverClan border!"

In his nest, Darkstar stiffened. "When was this?"

"On the dawn patrol." The brown ticked tabby looked about ready to launch himself out of the camp and kill the first enemy warrior he came across. "His scent was close to where you were sunning yesterday."

Darkstar decided it was best to pretend ignorance over this. "Did they overlap?"

"Yes. Near the border."

Darkstar rose to his paws, his pelt twitching. "He is probably trying to figure out what I was doing on Sunningrocks yesterday."

Dustpelt's eyes narrowed. "If you go back now, he might kill you. Just like he did Bluestar."

"Did you scent anything else?"

"No," Dustpelt mewed. He finally settled down, wrapping his tail around his paws. "We smelled mintleaf in the area and think it was a former ShadowClan cat disguising his scent."

"I'll inform Whitestorm. We'll have the hunting patrols keep a nose out for anything odd." Darkstar looked at Dustpelt searchingly. "Anything else?"

"No," confessed the tom, sounding disappointed. "Are you going to do something about Tigerclaw in RiverClan territory? Someone should warn Leopardstar."

Darkstar's eyes narrowed. "The safety of that Clan is not ThunderClan business." Even as he said it, he wondered how long it would before that was no longer true. "You're dismissed."

Begrudgingly, Dustpelt dipped his head respectfully and raced out. Darkstar waited until he was sure no one else was coming to tell him things he already knew and settled down in his nest for a nap, trying not to think about how cold the den was without warm bodies to fill it.


	14. Chapter 13

The night air was cold and still. Darkstar padded into the Sandy Hollow, smelling the scents of his apprentice hood, remembering the stench of Tigerclaw beside him. He turned, looking up at his mentor and into those dark amber eyes. They stared back at him critically, calculating.

 _He's so smart._

"What are we doing today?" Darkstar asked, his voice young and squeaky. He remembered trying to smooth it over, to sound as rich and pure and masculine as he did now. "I mean, I'm ready for anything Tigerclaw."

Tigerclaw kept staring at him with that calculating gaze. Then he struck him. Darkstar felt pinpricks in his fur and staggered to the side, fur fluffed up in shock.

"You are not ready until I say you are ready, Darkpaw," the older tabby growled. "You are nothing more than a kit. But today you will become a warrior."

Darkstar felt his heart pound in excitement, in surprise and horror, all mixed together in one mangled mess of feelings. "Tigerclaw, what are you-?"

Those eyes, dark and beautiful, slowly became red like the autumn moon, black blood leaking out down Tigerclaw's nose. Darkstar watched with sick fascination, wondering inanely how any of this was supposed to make him a stronger warrior.

It made sense before. Darkpaw had needed to toughen up, to grow stronger, and Tigerclaw knew how to make that happen. A little push, a little blood, was a small price to pay for becoming great. And then there was always the praise. Darkpaw would make a great warrior.

 _I'm the best._

The paw that came down was outstretched, every claw red with blood, and Darkstar felt like he was weakening, like his life was flowing out of his sides and down his legs.

"You are not ready," yowled the once brown-and-black tabby. Now he was blood-red with black stripes, stripes like tree shadows that spread out into roots that twisted across the ground and wrapped their bark around Darkstar's legs, dragging him straight to the ground.

"Tigerclaw!"

"You will never be ready." The creature Tigerclaw had become opened it's bloody maw and struck.

 _He's right. He's always right._

A tom's voice whispered in his ear, "Beware, beware!"

Darkstar jerked awake, legs splayed, having gone completely still. A strange cat's scent brushed against his nose before disappearing rapidly under the smell of blood, wet moss, and berries.

"You're awake," mewed Yellowfang, brushing a few herbs aside.

Darkstar sat bolt upright, fur bristling in barely contained fury. "How long have I been out?"

"A half-moon," mewed the medicine cat, looking more tired than Darkstar had ever seen her before.

Darkstar tried to remember what happened before that. Leaf-bare had arrived early, thundering through the forest with the ferocity of a thousand tigers, roaring with a vengeance. He blinked, staring out into the snow covered camp with surprise. The Clan hadn't been prepared for the sudden change in temperature and more than half a dozen warriors were sick with one cough or the other.

"Did I die?" he asked.

"No," mewed Yellowfang with a tone that suggest she had hoped he had. "Your fever broke last night."

Darkstar looked around for the source of the blood-smell but realized belatedly that it was coming from himself. He turned to lick his pelt and felt a chill at the shallow claw marks marring his pelt.

"Did you attack me?" he demanded, giving the medicine cat and former warrior his full attention.

Yellowfang snorted, annoyed. "Of course not. An apprentice left a few thorns in your bedding."

 _Cloudpaw_ , thought Darkstar, his mood darkening. He did not want to deal with the apprentice today, especially not after the nightmare, even if he might enjoy it. The chill of the forest was reminding him of the chill he had felt in StarClan when they gave him his nine lives. Besides, he wasn't sure what do with Yellowfang here. He had so many questions in regards to her loyalty that he couldn't imagine staying near her a second longer.

"I'm going out," he mewed with finality.

Yellowfang narrowed her eyes but didn't raise any objections. "I'll have one of the apprentice change your bedding," she rasped.

Darkstar blinked in gratitude and disbelief. "Yes, do that." Without another word, he hurried out.

The cold yellow sun bore down on the empty and quiet camp. Darkstar eyes scanned the clearing before he settled on the meager prey-pile. A fierce hunger overwhelmed him and he hurried over to grab a squirrel and drag it away to be devoured. He barely spent any time on ripping away the skin, desperate for something to eat. The smell of blood filled his nostrils, and he ignored it as he choked the meal down.

Had it been a dream from StarClan? Darkstar's gaze traveled upwards briefly before he tore is gaze away. He started cleaning out his fur of the blood, desperate to escape the smell for a moment so his nose could be clear.

"Hello, Darkstar," mewed a white she-cat, dipping her head to him. Her eyes flashed briefly pink in the sunlight, and Darkstar fought the urge to look away.

"Frostfur," he mewed, forcing his voice to be smooth, "what a nice surprise."

The white she-cat settled beside him, taking a brief second to glance around camp before lowering her voice. "What are you going to do about the kit-killer?"

"Brokenstar is dead," Darkstar mewed.

Frostfur gave him a look. "I meant Yellowfang."

Darkstar hummed thoughtfully to himself. "I have had a few ideas."

"Like what?"

Darkstar felt a spark of warmth at the eagerness in her voice. "We need to test her loyalty, obviously."

Even as he said it, Darkstar actually started to think about the problem in depth. Yellowfang was a known kit-killer, a potential spy for ShadowClan, and a possible future traitor. Darkstar did not like the thought of there being rogues out there that had someone on the inside.

"I have an idea," he mewed, his eyes sliding to Frostfur's. "But I'm going to need a little help."

"Help, how?"

A little while later, Darkstar padded into the medicine cat den. "Yellowfang, from now on you're going to be taking care of the kits."

The dark grey she-cat shook herself as if trying to chase off an annoying fly. "I don't have milk, leader cat."

Darkstar looked unamused. "Of course you're not going to be nursing them. Most of them are too old for that anyway. No, you're going to make sure the queens are properly fed and their bedding is properly cleaned out."

"Those are a warrior's apprentice duties," she rasped.

"And you used to be a warrior," he snapped back.

Yellowfang stared at him with narrowed pale yellow eyes. Darkstar tried not to let it bother him so much.

"You will be monitored by Frostfur," he continued. "I have given her instructions to let you near the kits and to not interfere if you have to check them over."

"What brought this on?"

Darkstar looked at her, really looked at her. Her flattened face, her twisted whiskers, and her long dark grey fur. He could see the kittypet and ShadowClan lineage in her wrinkles. "To test your loyalty and to prove whether or not what Brokenstar said was true."

She snorted. "You're going to let a potentially dangerous cat near your kits?"

"If you aren't dangerous, you won't hurt them," he mewed reasonably. "Besides, Frostfur will make sure you don't do anything bad to them. She loves kits too much."

Yellowfang harrumphed loudly. "Loves kits too much, indeed."

Darkstar stared at Yellowfang, feeling too drained to handle the she-cat's snark. "Your new duties start today." He rose to his paws and shook himself. "Don't keep the queens waiting."

Without waiting for a response, Darkstar padded out, fully expecting Yellowfang to obey. He sniffed the entrance and realized Cinderpaw's scent was more than a little stale. He followed her trail out of the camp, feeling himself relax now that he was away from the prying eyes of his Clanmates. He found the dark grey smokey she-cat in a small grove somewhere behind the camp.

"Cinderpaw," he mewed, glancing around as if to make sure they were alone.

"Darkstar!" The apprentice jumped and winced as she twinged her hindpaw. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, of course not," he mewed silkily. "I've simply decided that Yellowfang will be working in the nursery from now on. That means all other medicine cat duties fall to you."

"Oh," Cinderpaw mewed, sounding disappointed. But then her eyes sparked. "You mean, you aren't going to kick her out?"

"She's on a trial period," mewed Darkstar, waving his tail dismissively.

"Yes! Thank you, Darkstar!" Cinderpaw let out a loud purr as she pressed into his side. "I promise, she won't let the Clan down."

Darkstar winced at her words and felt awkward in the cat-hug. "That's... good." For a moment, he contemplated having kits with Cinderpaw before dismissing the idea of a medicine cat having kits. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about a dream I've been having."

She pulled away, and Darkstar instantly missed her warmth. "What kind of dream?"

"A strange dream." Darkstar mewed with a huff. "Redtail is in it. He claims that Tigerclaw killed him and that Tigerclaw is going to kill me."

Darkstar looked expectantly at Cinderpaw, hopefully even, but was disappointed when Cinderpaw stared at him seriously.

"You should listen to him, Darkstar. He's a StarClan cat, after all."

"I've listened to them, to all of them. I listened to them about-" Darkstar cut himself, remembering that he wasn't supposed to talk about the leadership ceremony. "Tigerclaw was my former mentor, he would never kill me."

Cinderpaw furrowed her brow in confusion. "But you didn't join him when he left the Clan."

Darkstar felt a chill, as thoroughly as if he'd fallen through the ice. "He'd understand."

"Darkstar," Cinderpaw mewed in concern, "you know that Tigerclaw is an enemy of ThunderClan, right? That he killed Bluestar?"

Darkstar turned away, fighting the unease and sickness which rolled in his stomach. He wished he had never asked for Cinderpaw's opinion. "Nevermind," he growled with disgust.

"Darkstar-"

But the black tabby was already padding away, trying to not to breath so heavily as his chest tightened in some foreign emotion. He started repeating his mantra, over and over.

 _Tigerclaw won't kill me, Tigerclaw won't kill me..._

The only one he could think to talk to about his dreams was StarClan. Surely they could explain a bit more about it?

 _It's been a full moon since I became leader. Surely they've warmed up to me now?_

He'd done a good job, if he said so himself. Brokenstar was dead, ThunderClan had two new kits, and Sunningrocks was theirs. Of course they'd welcome him back and apologize for that horrible leadership ceremony.

He picked up his pace, his paws taking him straight to Fourtrees. He didn't feel the need for an escort. Alone, he would probably not be attacked but if he had a whole patrol then he would have problems. Just to be safe, he forced himself to travel through the thunderpath ditch that marked the border between ShadowClan and WindClan. Just to be extra sure, he chose the side of the Thunderpath on ShadowClan's side of the border. It was near enough to sunhigh that he wouldn't have to worry about them.

He didn't want the Clan to worry about him too much either, so he walked quickly. Through the stinky mud of the Thunderpath ditch, too preoccupied to think of how the mud was smearing his pelt. He left the open moor and swampland for the field of prickly brown grass stalks that grew so tall they were big enough for twolegs to hide in. He flat out ran the rest of the day, hoping to make it to the Moonstone before the moon passed over moonhigh.

"I'm here," he said to himself.

He stood panting in the entrance to mothermouth. It was night and his stomach growled hungrily even as it felt tight. His paws didn't stop shaking and instead of hunting, he laid down and stretched out his legs to rest. He stayed that way until he was sure the moon had climbed directly overhead. He rose to his paws, only to discover the sharp pains in his belly were gone and his paws were steady again. Relieved, he padded inside, puffing out his whiskers so they brushed against the walls and guided him.

He knew the way, right? He suddenly felt unsure. It was dark and he could feel the weight of the earth above him. It pressed down, as if Silverpelt was standing on him instead of sleeping on the horizon, curled around the Clan protectively. His heart pounded in his chest and his breath came in short, ragged noises that echoed all around him. He sounded so loud, and so alone.

The cave opened out. He sniffed and smelled the cold night air. He looked up and saw a star staring down at him coldly. Had he arrived too late?

As if to answer him, the moonstone burst alive with blinding white light that forced him to turn away as his eyes adjusted. When he turned back, the moonstone was alive with the spirits of StarClan.

"I'm here," he mewed, ears perked forward, as if he hoped to hear their whispers in the walls. But it was silent and his voice echoed around like in a hollow oak. The unease which filled him made him pause before he forced himself to pad forward and touch his nose to the moonstone.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the moonstone went dark. Darkstar pulled his head back in confusion. Had StarClan abandoned him?

"I'm here! StarClan, speak to me!"

A horrible, sick feeling filled him from nose to tail-tip. He stared down at his paws.

Then he smelled it. Blood, thick and oozing, slowly filled the crowded space. He felt it the thick liquid on his paws, and when he looked up, something thick and viscous blocked the the stars.

"StarClan?"

A waterfall of red poured into the chamber, scattering on the sharp surfaces of the Moonstone, splashing into his face. As if all of Silverpelt, the great leopard, was bleeding. A bright sycthe-shaped beam of white light stabbed into the chamber from above, rolling back the ceiling to reveal the black she-cat in all her glory, eyes wide, one as white as the moon and the other as yellow as the sun, glowing with power he could only dream of. He saw StarClan warriors clinging to her pelt, tiny white spots on an otherwise blue-black surface.

Redtail's voice whispered in his ear, still somehow loud in the den. "Beware the leopard's claws."

Then Silverpelt opened her mouth and more blood poured forth and into the chamber, rapidly rising around him until he neck deep. It closed around his eyes, his mouth, his nose, before buoying him upwards towards the Stars. Then he smelled smoke.

"Fire alone can save the Clan."

With a shriek of horror, he jerked awake and leaped back from the dead stone. The chamber was dark, as dark as if it was filled up with blood, but it smelled strongly of fire and smoke.

He ran out, running faster than he'd ever run before. He burst out of the mothermouth and stumbled, shocked, as he realized the entire field of tallgrass was on fire. His eyes darted left and right for a way around, but it seemed to stretch on in all directions. He smelled blood, he smelled smoke, and his chest tightened as he realized it was everywhere. Prey raced passed him for the safety of mothermouth, some dripping blood.

 _What's happening?_

He didn't know. All he wanted was to get back to camp and to sleep, preferably somewhere colder than this. His skin felt like it was being roasted.

He searched desperately for an escape before his eyes landed on the distant twolegnest, the place where Barley the loner lived. Before he could convince himself not to go there, he ducked his head and raced as fast as he could around the fields.

But when he came around to the front of the nest, he realized the fire was limited by the field. He turned to race around it, already seeing the rolling hills of WindClan's moor, untouched by the flames. Relief, so strong he tasted it on his tongue, flowed through him.

He didn't stop for anyone or anything. He didn't hide when he reached WindClan territory. He didn't dare look up in case she was still there, standing over him. No matter how much he ran, he could still smell her blood on his nose and the smoke, the smoke which rose like a wall in front of Highstones, demonic and unfriendly, as if warning him to never return.

When he reached Fourtrees, Darkstar tumbled and fell down the slippery and rocky slopes into the Gathering place. His legs shook and refused to gather under him, so he laid out, letting the cold night air help to cool off his aching limbs. His stomach cramped but he barely felt the pangs of hunger.

Then he started to laugh, hoarsely, choking on his own spit, wheezing through his abused nose.

"Leopardstar," he breathed. "It's only Leopardstar."


	15. Chapter 14

The stream bubbled across the smooth stones. The cry of a barn owl pierced the chilly silence of leaf-bare. All around him, the glow of a rosy morning was subdued by the grey fog which settled into the air. He barely felt the chill behind his thick coat.

The black tabby rested beside the water, watching tiny minnows darting beneath the surface. He wondered if RiverClan would be angry to find out that he'd been hunting fish, and dark satisfaction bloomed in him as he pictured Leopardstar's outraged face as her Clan withered away to nothing but skin and bones.

 _Would serve her right_ , he thought. _RiverClan cats don't even know how to hunt a mouse!_

His paw flashed, hooking out a choice minnow and killing it with a single bite. He carelessly flicked the carcass onto a small pile of other fish, their silver scales gleaming in the pre-dawnlight. It was enough to feed all the apprentices.

He rose and stretched, basking in the pleasure as his aching muscles flexed and rippled under his pelt. He smoothed down his fur, before gathering up the minnows by their tails and heading home.

Darkstar had never felt more relaxed in his life. Even with war on the horizon, he almost felt like he was going to live forever. His world felt more whole and complete than it had in a long time. Everything was going his way again.

When he padded into ThunderClan camp with his catch, he was greeted with surprised mews and shocked stares.

"Did you get that from the river?" asked an apprentice.

"We shouldn't be hunting on RiverClan territory," mewed Mousefur with a nervous glance at her sibling, Runningwind.

"Would serve those fishbreath right," muttered Dustpelt, but his tail and head was low.

Darkstar dismissed them all airily with a wave of his tail and dropped the fish onto the freshkill pile. "It's prey from the stream," he mewed, a touch haughtily. "We can't be afraid of catching a little fish every now and again, especially with leaf-bare on the way. Only RiverClan and WindClan cats care about the prey other cats eat."

"But won't this upset them?" Fireheart mewed. "Shouldn't we be avoiding war with RiverClan?"

Darkstar realized he hadn't shared his news with the Clan yet. "Our land is for us to hunt on and us alone. If RiverClan has a problem with that, they can speak to our claws."

His gaze swept the Clan as he soaked in their nods and murmurs of agreement. Only soft-hearts like Fireheart were less keen on the idea but they understood they should remain silent. "Whitestorm," Darkstar began, "what news from the patrols?"

The white tom gazed up at him with calm yellow eyes despite the nervous twitch of his tail. "Dustpelt's dawn patrol scented RiverClan on the border." He looked unhappy. "They also scented prey blood and fur on this side of the border."

Shocked and angry yowls answered this statement. Darkstar felt his hackles rise and didn't bother to fight the snarl on his face. "Mangepelts," he growled, as the rest of the Clan slowly became silent. "Whitestorm, gather a battle patrol. Bring all the new warriors and older apprentices."

The white tom dipped his head, resigned. "Yes, Darkstar."

"Darkstar-" Fireheart mewed, but Darkstar turned away and padded for his den. He did not want to listen to mousehearts when he needed to prepare for a battle.

When he stepped out of the den, his pelt was smooth and sleek and his Clanmates were waiting for him. Darkstar felt a rush of pride to see them already gathered. _My Clan. They are all mine._

"To the RiverClan border!" he yowled. "We'll see exactly what they've done to our prey and then we'll show them what we do in kind!"

"Wait!" A dark grey tabby tom emerged from the warrior's den. "Let me come, too."

Darkstar stared hard at Greystripe. "Why?"

"I wish to prove my loyalty to ThunderClan." Greystripe's eyes were firm.

"Greystripe," started Fireheart, "you don't have to-"

"I agree," mewed Darkstar. "You may join the patrol. If we run into a RiverClan patrol, we could always use the extra claws."

"Thank you, Darkstar," mewed Greystripe with relief. "I won't let you down!"

Darkstar searched the Clan, finally registering who was actually on the patrol and who wasn't. "Longtail, you will be in charge of the camp while we are gone. Whitestorm, you're coming with me."

With a final twitch of his tail, he led the patrol out of camp. Theirs paws pounded the grass flat, and Darkstar imagined he was surrounded by lions. Excitement pulsed through Darkstar's fur. Finally, he was going to lead the Clan into another battle. He felt as if last time didn't even count. Today, he was on a righteous mission from StarClan and the whole Clan had his back.

Whitestorm ran beside Darkstar and subtly guided him to the Sunningrocks border. Darkstar's tail lashed in fury as he realized where RiverClan had hunted.

They halted in Sunningrocks. Darkstar absorbed the sight of his triumph and felt confident he would not lose the upcoming battle. He jerked his head at Whitestorm. "Where?"

The white warrior had his nose to the ground and carefully padded to the far end of the clearing. "Here." He gestured at the grass with his tail.

Darkstar felt a dark growl in his throat as he approached the mangled prey but stopped in shock as the smell hit his nose. Underneath the sweet mint and bland watercress was the smell of Tigerclaw. His tail twitched nervously as he looked around. "Can you smell any other cats?"

Whitestorm blinked. "No." He sniffed the prey himself and looked at Darkstar in worry. "Do you recognize the scent?"

The black tabby was surprised the tom even asked. As far as he understood it, Whitestorm and Tigerclaw had been friends as apprentices. Surely Whitestorm recognized the smell?

 _Maybe I'm just smelling the scent from yesterday_ , he decided with a touch of relief. "We're remarking the border," he announced. "Two cats per bush. If they think we didn't notice, then they are dead wrong. Push the boundary to the edge of the river."

His Clanmates rushed around to do what he asked, and Darkstar felt a twinge of satisfaction. He smiled at Whitestorm. "Those mangepelts are going to regret this."

"What are you going to do?" asked Whitestorm cautiously.

"We share a border with the river," Darkstar mewed. "We're going to use it."

Once his patrol had gathered behind him, he began to give them his new orders. Whitestorm watched dubiously behind him, his ears flicking nervously.

"Are you sure about this?" Fireheart questioned. Darkstar had been trying to forget he was a part of the patrol, being one of the Clan's younger warriors.

"Any other questions?" Darkstar mewed pointedly, and was satisfied when no one else said anything. He saw the excitement in their eyes and the shifting of their paws. "Good. Spread out."

Darkstar waited until his Clanmates had disappeared into the bushes before following and padding out to the edge of the water. His gaze swept the river. It frothed and bubbled, but the water was blue and clear near the surface. He spotted a young trout between a swarm of minnows. He signaled to his hiding Clanmates. _Watch what I do._ Then he studied the ripples of light across the surface of the water, reached out a paw, and struck. The young trout flew onto the land, flopping wildly. Darkstar bit it in the gills until it went still. He licked his lips. "It's easy," he mewed loudly.

When he looked around, Swiftwing was already at the edge of the water. The black and white tom dipped his head, his eyes furrowed in concentration, before his paw shot out. He jumped back, with a shiver. "The water is cold."

"Deal with it," answered Darkstar. "Prey is more valuable than a warrior's comfort."

Swiftwing frowned sulkily but stared at the water determinedly. Eventually, he crept forward like he was stalking a mouse and prepared to make another strike in the water.

Around them, a few other ThunderClan warriors were giving it a try. Dustpelt already had a long minnow beside him. Whitestorm hooked out a trout almost as large as an apprentice and smashed it into the mud to kill it. Sandstorm and Fireheart bunched together with Greystripe at the end, but only Greystripe had a small but growing pile beside him. The dark grey tabby had a look of concentration on his face. Darkstar purred in satisfaction, his own eyes drifting to watch the RiverClan camp near the bend in the river. He could already see the warriors moving around and felt a touch of satisfaction as a patrol of blue pelts started to head in their direction, quiet anger on their faces.

"ThunderClan!" Blackclaw led the patrol, his tail lashing. "What are you doing hunting on RiverClan territory?"

Darkstar's eyes widened mockingly. "RiverClan territory?" He sniffed the air dramatically and glanced around. "I'm exactly where my border is, mangepelt."

"The river belongs to RiverClan!" yowled Stormfur.

Darkstar rolled his eyes. "I don't taste your scent on it. The river doesn't belong to any Clan!"

"Why are you doing this?" yowled a distressed dark grey she-cat. "Don't you have plenty of prey in your forest?"

The dark tabby narrowed his eyes and rose to his full height, signaling with a lash of his tail for his warriors to gather near him. "You warriors claim to respect the boundaries between our Clans and claim to pretend to know how much forest is in the forest when you can't even hunt mice!" His gaze swept the warriors in fury as he realized that the RiverClan patrol was outnumbered. "It's leafbare. Prey is scarce and going to be get scarcer as the river freezes over. We're just making sure we gain more than a few mouthfuls before it does."

"The river has always belonged to RiverClan," the she-cat protested.

"The river belongs to the Clan that borders it," snapped Darkstar. "And you have no right to complain about territory when your warriors catch prey on our lands!" He gestured to the river. "RiverClan can't make that mistake on accident!"

The RiverClan warriors looked nervously at each other. Despite being strong and powerful in the water, they knew the moment they tried to fight the ThunderClan cats on land, they'd be easily outnumbered.

Stormfur stepped forward. "What do you mean? No RiverClan warrior has hunted on ThunderClan land."

Darkstar sneered. "RiverClan seems to have a funny interpretation of what territory even is. Land is not the only type of territory a ThunderClan warrior can hunt in." His gaze gestured to the fish. "From now on, any RiverClan cat caught on this side of the river will be punished severely. If we find anymore scraps of prey with RiverClan stench on them, I'll personally lead a battle patrol into your camp and kill Leopardstar again if that's what it takes to get the message across." He narrowed his eyes to slits. "You've been warned."

After a few heartbeats of silence where Darkstar hoped the RiverClan cats would attack, he gestured for his patrol to return to their hunting. He could see the frustration and fury on the faces of the RiverClan cats, but eventually Stormfur dipped his head and they padded back to their camp.

Darkstar felt disappointed. He had been hoping for some bloodshed.

"What do we do now?" asked Brightflower innocently. She had a large minnow beside her, freshly caught.

"We hunt," mewed Darkstar.

He waited until his patrol had caught enough fish to feed the whole Clan and felt a little appreciation for the bounty of the river. They had barely been out since sunhigh when the patrol was ready to head back to camp.

"I think the Clan deserves a feast," he yowled to his patrol. "We have won a great victory today. RiverClan now understand where we stand on this border. If they cross it again, rest assured we will not hold back!"

He grabbed his own trout and led the Clan back to camp. By the time they reached the top of the ravine, Darkstar's neck ached with the weight of the fish. Whitestorm struggled not to drag his fish through the leaf and finally gave up.

After dropping his prey in front of the Highrock, he leapted up on the Highrock and announced to the whole Clan. "It's time for a feast!" he yowled. "We have won a great victory against the RiverClan cats today and not a single drop of blood was spilled! They barely even challenged us! But we must prepare as well. They are not going to take us hunting their fish lying down. We must be strong and well fed when RiverClan crosses us again." He looked out over his Clanmates, his eyes hard as he spent more than a few heartbeats staring down Fireheart and the other softhearts. "Trust me, it won't be a matter of if. It will be a matter of when."


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N: Much thanks to Riley-Cooper123 for catching a typo last chapter. And Littlesmack for complaining about all the grammar mistakes and such in Chapter 6. Most have been fixed. :)**

 **I appreciate and welcome all types of criticisms and corrections. Yes, including flames. As long as I can understand what the complaints are about, I'll listen to them.**

* * *

Darkstar licked his lips clean of fishguts. His nose was already used to the smell of fish. Even his Clanmates didn't grumble anymore about how the fresh-kill pile smelled and a few of them even seemed to enjoy the taste of the oily white meat. Though, everyone hated the scales. Like the bones and fur, it was buried.

"May I join you?"

Darkstar blinked up at the white she-cat in surprise. "Shouldn't you be watching Yellowfang?" He winced internally at his own words. _Are you trying to turn away the first she-cat to talk to you since you became a leader?_

"She's in the medicine cat den," Frostfur mewed, "and I can see her fine from here if she heads towards the nursery."

Deciding she had a point, Darkstar forced his fur to relax. "I would be honored." He tugged what remained of the long minnow closer to her. "Would you like to share my prey?"

She gave the minnow a contemplative look before finally shaking her head. "I'll leave that to the warriors who are defending our territory." She looked pointedly at him.

Darkstar smiled, pleased. "You are too kind."

Frostfur wrapped her tail around him and snuggled into his side. Darkstar couldn't resist a small purr as he started to groom her fur. It took a second for her to start purring too.

"I have been thinking," she mewed at last. "It would be easier to keep an eye on Yellowfang if I was back in the nursery."

Darkstar started to frown. "Uh-huh," he mewed. He shot the nursery a glance. "Only queens expecting kits are allowed in the nursery," he reminded her.

"I love kits," she mewed almost reassuringly. "And it would be good for the Clan to have a new generation."

He considered her words. He knew Frostfur was a simple cat who preferred kits over hunting for her Clan. Normally, he'd look down on a cat like that. A Clan cat should be dedicated to protecting his Clan. But he was grateful to it now. His ears twitching eagerly. "My den has been cold these past few nights."

She purred. "It sounds like we could use each other's company a lot."

Darkstar smelled her warm scent. "Yes, we could." He rose to his paws and stretched. Excitement prickled his pelt.

 _StarClan must be smiling down on me._

When he awoke, it was well past moonhigh. He didn't move, absorbing the warmth of Frostfur and trying to remember the last time he had felt this warm.

Warm like a fire. He lifted his head and sniffed the air, the phantom smell of smoke making him cough. He was padding out the den and froze at the sight of a wall of flames in front of him, barring his exit. The forest was gone, replaced by orange and red tongues of fire that stretched up towards the sky. He looked left and right, but it was everywhere.

"Fire!" he yowled. "Fire!"

But when he searched for his Clan, he found them still asleep in their dens. "Wake up!" He slammed his paws into Whitestorm's back but it was like striking stone. He was unmovable. He hit and pushed every warrior he could find but it was to no avail. "Wake up!"

Outside, a cat stood in the fire. His pelt was dark orange with sharp stripes. When he looked at Darkstar, his eyes blazed like twin suns.

"Help!" he cried, feeling lost and overwhelmed. "Help! My Clan is dying! They're-"

He looked around himself and realized he was surrounded by rocks. Sunningrocks. He looked up and the fire was gone, replaced by the tranquil forest and bright green leaves. A red and white tom stood at the top of the rocks, overlooking something Darkstar couldn't see. His mouth opened in a yowl but no sound escaped him. Blood welled up from his scruff and down his back, like a dark river.

"Redtail?" Darkstar mewed, helpless.

But when the cat turned around, it was Tigerclaw. His lips peeled back into a friendly snarl and blood dripped down his pale throat. His teeth were as red the leaf-fall full moon.

"You're next."

Darkstar jerked awake, pausing as a warm tongue lapped soothingly across his scruff. He didn't know whether to feel better or feel worse as he remembered the bite in Redtail's neck.

"Are you okay?" Frostfur stared at him with round eyes.

"Yes," he mewed, rising and shaking moss from his pelt. "I just... wasn't used to the warmth." _That's where bad dreams came from, right?_ he wondered. _Maybe it was the fish._

 _It probably wasn't,_ a tiny part of him said. _You've had nightmares like this before._

Frostfur blinked sympathetically. "It is cold in here. And two cats warm it up faster than one." She almost sounded doubtful, like she was trying to convince herself.

"I'm fine," he reassured her. "I'm going to speak with Whitestorm."

He padded out quickly, half-expecting Frostfur to call after him but disappointed when she did not. He pushed the thought aside.

He should feel great. He had a she-cat to warm his nest now, even if only temporarily, but a chill brushed over his StarClan trying to warn him of something? He thought about Tigerclaw's bloody mouth and shuddered. Was he wrong about the leopard's claws prophecy?

 _Of course not_ , he thought, steeling himself. _StarClan just doesn't understand Tigerclaw like I do._

"Darkstar!" Dustpelt charged across the clearing, his tail lashing angrily. "RiverClan was scented on the border again."

"What?" Darkstar stared in shock. Surely RiverClan wouldn't cross them so soon after their last confrontation. He felt the eyes of his Clanmates on his pelt, and felt a surge of fury and frustration. "Those mangepelts," he spat. "Haven't they learned their lesson?"

He looked skyward, realizing the first star had appeared in the sky. How long had he been asleep? A part of him wanted to return to his nest and curl up with Frostfur just to remember the feeling of victory from the day before. _Except it clearly wasn't a victory._

"Dustpelt," he mewed, voice firm. "Gather a patrol of warriors." He looked around the camp and bounded towards his deputy. "Whitestorm, I'm taking a battle patrol to RiverClan. You're in charge of camp while I'm gone."

Whitestorm looked alarmed. "But you already took a patrol yesterday."

"There was new scents on the border," answered Darkstar.

"How many cats are you taking?" asked Whitestorm, looking around the camp.

Darkstar in annoyance. "You'll know when they've finished gathering. Where are the apprentices?"

"Most of them are out on patrols," Whitestorm mewed.

"Thornpaw?"

"On the hunting patrol."

Darkstar half-sneered, realizing he was going to have less cats than he had yesterday. "I'll leave a few warriors in camp," he mewed lowly.

At the bramble tunnel entrance, Dustpelt was already waiting with a few warriors. Swiftwing and Mousefur were with him.

Whitestorm twitched his ears worriedly. "That isn't enough for a battle patrol."

Darkstar's tail twitched nervously but he kept his expression unconcerned. "We'll handle it."

"I should come with you," mewed the white tom seriously. "You'll need the extra muscle."

Darkstar looked around the camp and spotted Goldenflower, who watched her two kits tumble through the snow. "Are they the only cats in camp?"

Whitestorm shifted uncomfortably. "Brindleface, Runningwind, and Longtail will be back from patrol soon."

"The camp needs protection, too," argued Darkstar.

"My Clan needs me to fight for them, too," he mewed simply.

Darkstar felt warm appreciation for his deputy and gave him an awkward nod. "Let's go."

As they padded up to the patrol, Ashpaw burst out of the apprentice's den, his blue eyes wide. "I want to come, too," he mewed, looking hopefully at his mentor.

"All apprentice stay in camp," growled Darkstar, nudging the tom away. "Frostfur is in charge while we are gone."

Ashpaw pouted, but Darkstar wasn't looking. He nodded at Dustpelt. "Take us to the scent."

The dark brown tabby lashed his tail and lead the way up the ravine. Darkstar threw a glance back at the camp and saw Frostfur's bright pelt outside the lichen talking to Ashpaw. He hoped the she-cat would understand she needed to keep an eye on everyone, even Yellowfang, before Darkstar returns. He hadn't really gotten to know her, but a part of him hoped he could rely on _someone_ and she seemed like the best option right now.

Then he pelted after Dustpelt, following him to the edge of RiverClan territory. The tom led them to a few crushed leaves which reeked of RiverClan fish-scent and fresh prey. Darkstar felt a wave of relief when he didn't recognize Tigerclaw's scent underneath it.

"What are we going to do about this?" asked Dustpelt, looking expectantly at Darkstar.

Darkstar signaled for the patrol to follow him. He padded straight to the barkground that stretched over the river. On the other side, the RiverClan scent markers were old and stale. Darkstar curled his lip in disgust, and looked back at his warriors.

"It's time RiverClan learned no to cross. We will remark this border and take all the land on this side of the twolegnest. Then, we will hunt here until sunhigh. When RiverClan arrives, we will give them more than a few scratches to worry about!"

The black tabby gestured for Dustpelt to take Mousefur to head towards the twolegnest while he, Swiftwing, and Whitestorm followed the river's border. Darkstar's half of the battle patrol spread out and started to mark the border, two at a time.

The scent markers were so strong that Darkstar could smell it from a small gust of a wind. Surely, RiverClan would smell it too, and a border or hunting patrol would be here soon to confront them. His pelt bristled in excitement. Beside him, Swiftwing and Whitestorm were bristling with anticipation, their claws digging up earth.

"RiverClan, attack!"

The familiar yowl made Darkstar's head snap around as a massive black and brown tabby bounded towards them, his big paws thundering across the ground. Dark amber eyes flashed with excitement. Darkstar yelped as he was bowled over. Above him stood Tigerclaw, and Darkstar stared up as if all the fight had been knocked out of him. He remembered his dreams and what he did to Leopardstar all in a flash.

"This territory belongs to RiverClan," declared Tigerclaw. His long claws flashed as he slashed open Darkstar's flank.

The feel of the blow woke him from his trance, and he remembered that Tigerclaw was RiverClan's deputy and an enemy. He forced himself to his paws and slammed into the big tabby, surprising the tom. But he shook him off with a rumbling snarl and knocked Darkstar back a foxlength.

Darkstar remembered how brutal Tigerclaw's training had been, how his muscles still ached with the memory of fighting his mentor desperately for days while trying to gain the upperpaw, how Tigerclaw purred in laughter and mocked him with each failed attempt to throw the older tabby off his paws. Darkstar did not remember a single time when he had successfully knocked Tigerclaw off his paws. They had simply moved on to something else.

Cold terror filled his pelt and made his paws tremble. He would rather stand up to a thousand cold StarClans than one furious Tigerclaw.

Tigerclaw leaped onto Darkstar, knocking him onto his back and bared his teeth in a grin, eyes shining. "You disappoint me, apprentice." Then he bent his head and sank his teeth into Darkstar's neck.

Darkstar was too stiff with fear to stop him. His body grew weak as hot blood dribbled down his chest and neck. His mind grew cloudy and darkness spread across his vision. Far far away, he heard Whitestorm's yowl and Tigerclaw talking over him.

Soon, he found himself standing in a grey field made of mist and stars. Above him, the bright spirits of the StarClan cats twinkled in the sky. A red and white spirit descended towards him, eyes narrowed even though he looked tired.

"Redtail," mewed Darkstar, dreading the tom's next words but he needed to get it over with. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

The mostly white spirit just stared at him silently. Darkstar's tail lashed nervously.

Finally, Redtail dipped his head. "Yes. You are losing a life."

Darkstar wanted to say more but couldn't. He felt like he had been having a conversation with Redtail for moons and suddenly realized he was right about everything.

"I'm a leader," Darkstar mewed at last. "Tigerclaw knows that."

Redtail stared at him but Darkstar ignored it. Of course Tigerclaw knew he'd come back. That's why Tigerclaw targeted him specifically. He wrapped his tail around his paws, pleased with himself. He just had to wait and then he could order a retreat and go home.

"Where am I?"

Darkstar turned and blinked at Whitestorm. The white cat was made of fog and was covered in a dozen and half stars that glittered and gleamed with warm light.

"Whitestorm?"

The white tom looked at him with wide eyes. "Are we in StarClan?"

Darkstar cringed and snorted and blinked rapidly. "It's pretty bland, isn't it?"

Whitestorm gazed around and then stared at Darkstar with uncertain and horrified eyes. "Am I dead?" he asked.

Redtail stepped forward, dragging their gazes to him. Solemnly, he touched noses with the white tom. "Yes," he mewed, his voice warm with emotion. "I am sorry, my friend."

Whitestorm flattened his ears. "So many of us have died this day," he mewed at last. He looked imploringly at Darkstar. "How many more will Tigerclaw kill?"

A chill swept through Darkstar. He looked first at Redtail, as if pleading the tom to object and say something reassuringly, but then he remembered the dream. The blood pouring down Redtail's neck. With a shudder, he looked away.

"Can we stop it?" Whitestorm wailed, staring up at the sky.

Redtail's eyes were clouded and distant. "I don't know," he murmurred softly. "I pray that all cats in ThunderClan heed our warning."

A sharp pain made him gasp. Darkstar jerked alive in a soft mossy nest, the heavy scent of herbs gathering around him like an extra pelt of warmth.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Mousefur, Whitestorm, and Swiftwing are dead," rasped a voice.

Darkstar stared at Yellowfang speechlessly. The old she-cat's gaze was sad and clouded.

"Impossible," Darkstar mewed, blinking. "It's not true. He wouldn't."

A cold claw gripped his belly and squeezed, and he curled up tightly, shivering with an unbearable cold only he could feel.


End file.
